Red, Red Rose
by Undercover Godmother
Summary: Grace is a teen who has an average life; excepting one strange encounter that she had with a boy in the forest when she was six. Based on the Grimm Fairy Tale the Rose, Grace shall discover a world of fairies and a parent's debt that will cost her dearly.
1. Party Stories

Mom always tells stories about how big an imagination I had as a child. Her favorite story – the one she always chose to tell at parties when little kids came up – is the story of the little boy I met in the woods.

For as long as I can remember, we have visited the cabin in the woods around early October. My mother loves camping. I don't know what it is that she enjoys. I like the outdoors, but I don't know why we go during October, when the air is crisp and cold. Perhaps it's the color the leaves turn. I have no idea.

Yearly, we'd go. Dad always stayed behind, even when he was alive. Or, that's what Mom says. I can't remember him. He died when I was four. Apparently I hadn't taken the death well. Mom said that I was despondent, and I pretended to talk to people who weren't there.

But, anyway. Mom, as always, started the story like this; "Gracie always had the biggest imagination as a child!" Even though I know I didn't imagine this story. Who would listen to a child who claimed that the story that would follow was true?

I would usually protest before she got started. "Mom, not this story again," I said, and she smirked before beginning.

"Well, we were out at the cabin in the mountains. As always, it was October, so it was a little chilly…" Her version isn't correct, and she always wanders horribly through the story. It's a short one, really.

Mom sent me outside to get some wood. I was six at the time, and so I was curious about what laid beyond the cabin. Mom always said that if I were to go anywhere that I had to stay nearby to the cabin or go with her. And we never wandered off the paths. For some reason or another (I can't quite remember the specifics) I wandered deeper into the woods.

I loved it. At least, I loved it until I got lost. Once again, I was six. So how was I supposed to know where to go? Panicking, I plunked myself down on the ground and started to sob. I wanted Mom to find me, but she didn't have a clue as to where I went.

Mom says that she was freaking out back at the cabin. She went looking for me, but she didn't find me in the end. Her friends all shake their heads and say that I was quite the naughty child to worry my mother like that. I can't help but to think of them as nitwits. They don't leave room for children to be stupid.

Regardless of which, I was crying. Mom was looking for me. But someone else found me there in the woods. I can't remember exactly what he looked like. I just remember that he was older than I was by a few years, and he had golden hair. This boy found me, and knelt before me. Somehow, he calmed me down. He took my hand, and lead me out of the forest and back to the cabin. I remember that hand because it was soft, and held my hand gently. I remember his pull was insistent, but not harsh.

This is where things get rather fuzzy. I think I hugged him. I'm not sure. I just remember him handing me a rose and whispering into my ear that when it bloomed, he would return. I think I fell asleep. Mom found me face first in the snow, and she carried me inside. Worried as she was, she was amused to hear my telling of the tale.

She didn't believe me. Not at all. Not even when I showed her the rose that suddenly had appeared in my room. For years I think I had a crush on the image of that boy. Until the image faded and nothing was left of the story but the words, vague memories, and the rose. I released that little crush, and allowed myself to forget.

When I was about ten or so, Mom tried to throw the rose away. She said it was black and withered. I looked at it, and I saw a bright red rose, it's petals as soft as the day it had come to me. It still hadn't bloomed. But she clearly didn't see what I saw. I promised I'd get rid of it, but I remember hiding it. But, as is the nature of many things a ten year old hides, I forgot where I had put it by next year. I was horribly depressed, but I quickly forgot about the rose.

But back to the party. Mother had finished her story, and I rolled my eyes. I was eighteen now, and everyone said that I was quite mature for my age. They always said that I was too serious for my own good. Of course, they also said that I was far too often distracted. Shaking my head at my mother, my fiery red hair danced around my face. I had inherited my mother's looks; thick curly red hair, freckles, pale skin and willowy figure. She said, though, that I had my father's clear blue eyes. I'd seen pictures, and I didn't see it. Ah well.

"Mom," I said almost as if to scold her, "It's just something I did when I was a dumb kid. I wish you would stop telling it…" It was the perfect teenage answer and the guests smiled at my feigned embarrassment.

"Christina!" a guest called to Mom. "Do you want to go to dinner with us next weekend?" I could see my mother pause. I knew what next weekend was. She had better remember what next weekend was!

"Sorry, Tory, but that is the weekend that my daughter and I go camping. Perhaps next weekend?" I let out a sigh of relief. Mom occasionally prioritized business and connections over things that I said were important. Although I understood why, it hurt me when she missed a dance recital or some such because she double booked.

The party ended soon after that, thank god. Many of her guests said to Mom, "Your daughter, Grace, is really quite charming." I'd be flattered if I hadn't heard it a hundred billion times before. Sighing, I headed upstairs. Our house was nice; a large double story house that she could now afford on her salary as a divorce lawyer. The stories she came home from work with were occasionally amusing, but not quite worth it.

"Good night, Mom," I called unenthusiastically down the stairs. Heading towards my room, Mom called me back.

Staring at me, she gave me a warm teary smile. Oh dear. I could see a 'you're so beautiful, thank you for putting up with me' speech coming. But Mom did no such thing. She just said, "Remember, we leave early tomorrow for the cabin. Are you all packed?" I nodded, and her smile widened. "Good. See you tomorrow, Gracie."

As she headed off to clean up the kitchen and living room, I headed to bed.


	2. Dreaming

Mornings are hell.

No joke, I am NOT a morning person. I hate them with all my being, and I would avoid getting up early if I could. But this was the big Friday when I go to get out of school to go on the camping trip. So here I was; up at six or so in the morning so that we would be able to spend a weekend in the cabin.

Rubbing my eyes, I tried to keep myself up. Mom looked like she was thrilled to be awake. She amazed me with her ability to get up early and stay up late, but still be cheerful. Me? I wanted to roll over and die. I refused to allow myself to ruin the morning by complaining.

Dragging my feet, we packed the jeep up, and Mom started driving. I simply closed my eyes, and fell asleep listening to a Madonna album that Mom had packed. It sounded like "Like a Virgin", but I wasn't too sure. Shrugging it off, I faded into oblivion.

I have always dreamed. They usually make little to no sense, or they end up being horribly dark. There really is no in between. Last night, for the first time in ages, my dream had made perfectly good sense. And that scared me. What terrified me more was that I was having the same dream again.

It was like I was sent back in time. There I was, in the woods, just like I had been when I was six. But now, I was eighteen. My dream-self felt a sense of urgency and fear. Like I was running from something, which was simply ridiculous because there was _nothing_ in those woods. Taking deep breaths, (even in my dreams I wasn't a good athlete) I turned around. At that moment, something akin to fear and wonder filled me.

There he was. After twelve years, the golden boy stood there. He looked a little older than I, about twenty or so, and he had such an imperious air to him. But what really struck me was that he was beautiful. I mean, not just movie star gorgeous. I mean shoot-me-dead gorgeous. He made Orlando Bloom look passably handsome. While I was busy trying to tell myself that this was stupid, because it was probably just my dream glorifying him, he took a few large steps towards me, and he was in my space.

Gaping at him, he smirked. 'Arrogant asshole,' was the first phrase that popped into my head. I would not be intimidated by him because he was taller than me. (Which is no great feat, I'm fairly petite.) Stamping my foot in annoyance, I widened my stance and put my hands on my hips. "Who the hell are you?" I demanded. His facial expression did not change; he just looked like he was amused with my bravado. This only annoyed me further.

So I slapped him.

I barely knew the guy, a word hadn't passed between us, and I slapped the prettiest guy in the whole wide world.

I was an idiot.

Angrily, he grabbed both of my wrists and pushed me up against a tree. Curse my subconscious for putting me in such a compromising position. Rolling my eyes mentally, I glared at this guy. I was shocked to see how feral he looked. Like some mountain cat who was getting ready to tear me to bits. I won't lie; I was scared out of my wits. At the same time, I felt horribly attracted to him. Once again, I yelled at my subconscious for egging me on.

Staring at me with eyes colored like steel and glinting like silver, he looked ready to kill me. My heart skipped a beat in fear. He was going to do it. I'd woken a beast and I was going to pay for it. Tensing in panic, I resisted the urge to throw up.

He did no such thing to me. As suddenly as he was angry, he was smirking again. Seeing that this agitated me, the smirk widened to a smile. 'Die, die, die,' I thought at him. Maybe that would solve my problems. It didn't. Why wasn't this dream allowing me to at least feel like I had a little power! Not for the first time, I told myself that my subconscious sucked.

While I was thinking, he had leaned forward. His breath tickled my cheek, and he smelled, oddly enough, like spring. I know it's strange for someone to smell like a season, but I've noticed that during the spring the air smells warm, fresh, and perhaps a little like grass. It's hard to describe, but it was what I smelled. "A debt must be paid," he whispered. His voice was rich and smooth. "Remember the rose."

Then he was gone. Blinking, I looked around. And began to feel myself wake up…

Groaning in real life, I rubbed my eyes. Glancing at the hazy, blue tinted world, I saw that it was twelve forty-seven. Which meant that we were probably almost to the cabin. I looked at Mom, who was looking contemplative. She was, I also noticed, was using an ear bud to have a conversation with someone. Shifting in my seat as quietly as possible, I yawned once. My mom shot me a brief smile, before saying, "Oh, the teenager is up. I think I'll talk to her now. Talk to you later, Danielle!"

The conversation ended, Mom turned her attention to me. "You slept pretty well, although you started mumbling in the last couple minutes. What didja dream about?" The question made me pause. I hated that sort of question. I rarely remembered the specifics of my dreams… I just remembered key parts of it.

Frowning, I said, "I was in the woods… and there was a guy there… I honestly don't remember that much." I shrugged. Something in the back of my mind tugged at me, as if it were important. "Oh yeah! It was the kid I ran into in the woods. Except he was grown up and stuff." Why that little nugget of information was important, I don't know. But Mom frowned when I said that, as if concerned.

"Oh. Weird dream," she said, chuckling a little. Her frown was gone, and I brushed it off as Mom over thinking what the boy and I had done in the woods. Inwardly, I was embarrassed. The thought of him and me… a giddy giggle bubbled up in my mind, and I brushed the thought off. That was just ridiculous.

"Yeah, no kidding," I replied, my tone bubbling with laughter. "So how much longer 'til we're there?"

Leaning back in her seat, Mom seemed to relax. "Not much longer." Just as she said that, the familiar side road caught our eyes, and she grinned. "In fact, we're about to arrive!" Telling me about the new development in the Seymour divorce case, we happily rode to the cabin and began to unpack. I just hoped that the case didn't get in the way of our weekend together, as amusing as it was to hear about what the wife had done to her husband's car…


	3. In Bloom

Cleaning the cabin was our first task.

We rarely went during the summer, due to the fact that we rented it out to other people then. Mom said it was a nice source of income, and she didn't mind sending people up here to clean up after the guests. Few visited during September though. Everyone was too busy with school, and the weather wasn't the best. So it never got cleaned.

Mom and I went through with our dusters and wash cloths, wiping up layers of dust. She took out the vacuum, while I was busy cleaning the kitchen. It wasn't fun, but it was nice to do something after sitting for almost seven hours. That, and after we were done I knew that I could rely on my mom to make some of her amazing salsa, and we would sit down on the couch eating chips and watching a movie.

So I chugged on through the work. I hummed a few clips of tunes. Pieces of Disney movies featured greatly in the songs I chose. I'd watched those movies from the cradle, and it was arguable that they were some of my favorite movies ever. Beauty and the Beast comes to mind as an all time favorite. Sure, I used to be a little scared of the wolves, but who wasn't? I began to hum "Be Our Guest" just as I began to mop the kitchen floor.

Taking a deep breath in between jobs, I pulled my hair back into a pony tail. My hair made me overheat all the time, not to mention that I had so much of it that it got annoying. I had a hair tie on hand at all times. I would just cut it back down it my shoulders, but I liked how it looked when it was long. It required care, but hey.

Finally we were done. Thank goodness for that too, because mother and I both looked red in the face. I may be a dancer, but I'm pretty much terrible at all other physical activities. Besides, we had worked hard to make sure this place was spic and span clean.

Feeling proud of ourselves, we sat in the kitchen. I was perched on a counter while Mom chopped up vegetables. Conversation was easy. I talked about what was going on at school, and she talked about work. My mother and I had a surprisingly good relationship. I mean, she was gone a lot of the time, but we could talk about things. I considered my mom to be one of my best friends.

The conversation ran its course though, and there was soon nothing but the sound of Mom chopping peppers. It was that awkward silence in which both people are trying to think of something new to say.

"Hey, Grace?"

"Yeah, Mom?" I noticed that she looked like she was about to confess something strange. She sighed and shook her head.

"Why don't you go grab a movie for us to watch?" I could tell that what she had said wasn't actually what she had wanted to say. But I wouldn't push her to tell me. Besides, it probably had just been one of those things where you couldn't remember what it was that you had wanted to say.

Grinning to myself, I went into the living room, and began to drag my fingers across the few movies we kept here. Biting my lip, I knew that the movie I wanted to watch was Beauty and the Beast. But we didn't keep the kid's movies here. Those remained in my room.

I got the tiny room upstairs, and although it was small, I loved that room. The adventures a child could have in that room were great, because it felt like a small attic. I used to pretend that I was a tragic princess, trapped in that room by the dragon who loved the taste of knight with mayonnaise on top. (I was quite a strange child. I liked mayonnaise on French fries, and thought ketchup was gross.)

Even now it was nice to have a small space and have it be all mine. When we rented out this cabin, this was the only room that remained locked. It was nice to know that no one else was going to be using my room.

Jumping up the stairs two at a time, I headed to the little room at the end of the hall and opened the door. My bags were already dumped on the bed, which was covered in a green blanket. Green was my favorite color. I went from loving pink to loving green when I was eight. A wild color change, Mom always says, because one moment pink was it, and then pink was horrible and everything had to be green.

Now the walls were green as well; a soothing mint color. Tranquility was something that I could achieve in this room with just my iPod and pajamas. Perhaps that was why I loved that cabin. It gave me a place for absolute silence in a life that was normally hectic and loud.

My movies, books, and other important knick knacks were kept on a shelf affixed next to my bed. I knelt, skimming through the movie titles. Spotting my movie of choice, I reached, shifting my weight from my left foot to my right. The board below me squeaked and shifted. Glancing down at the board, I frowned. 'What the hell?' I thought, before applying weight on the board yet again. It reacted the same way.

Moving myself, I sat down next to the mysterious floor board. How had I managed to miss this for all these years? Sure, I could be ignorant, but this was just ridiculous. Sticking my fingers underneath the board, it was easily lifted away. Inside a small space lay a book and a shoe box.

What was this stuff doing here?

I scooped up the book first, and smirked at the pink sparkly cover. So this book had probably been mine at one point or another – clearly before the era of 'no pink allowed'. Gingerly, I opened the cover, and was met with the wild scrawling of an eight year old. I had never been much of a writer, mostly because my hand writing was terrible.

The first few entries were had to read. But thankfully I was an inconsistent writer. I quickly found that I was skipping through the book to my tenth year, when I was complaining about how mother had told me to throw away the rose. The entries ended there, though, which was odd. I mean, it's pretty hard to forget that your diary is below the floor boards next to your bed.

As puzzling as it was, I soon found myself bored by all the petty and silly things I'd said as a little girl, and more interested as to what a little girl would put in a shoe box. Lifting it out of the hole, I dusted off the cover. Nothing on the outside clued me in to what might stored inside. So I lifted the lid off, ignoring the thoughts that screamed that there might be something disgusting in there.

There was nothing of the sort. A teddy bear – a bear I identified as Luther – sat inside. Squealing, I hugged the worn little bear to me, disregarding the fact that he smelled a little musty. Luther had been a gift from my father, and I had sobbed when I thought I'd lost it when I was ten. That bear was the closest thing to Dad I had, and I was thrilled to have it back. But a flash of red in the corner of my eye caught my attention. Putting the bear down, I stared down into the box.

There lay a pristine red rose.

Luther forgotten, I reached in for the flower, and smiled at it. The proof. The proof that I thought had been lost years ago. Touching the petals carefully, I smiled. They were as soft as ever. I wanted to know how it had managed to stay in such a condition for twelve years now, eight of which it had now spent without water. It must have been some kind of fake rose. It felt so real, though.

I had to wonder how they had made it look and feel so real. Standing up, I decided to show it to Mom. Perhaps she would have the answer. I also picked up Luther, so that I could show her that she'd been wrong to yell at me about it ten years ago. Perhaps we could even celebrate his discovery together.

"Are you going to spend all day up there or what?" Mom called up to me as I descended the stairs.

Smiling, I held Luther up to Mom. "Look what I found!" I exclaimed, bouncing with pride. Mom smiled widely at me.

"Luther… I remember when you lost that bear. You were in such a panic. It's great to know you found him again!"

"I know, right?" I pirouetted in joy. When I'd completed the turn, I noticed that my mother looked pale.

"Gracie… what is it you have in your other hand?" Glancing at the rose, I sighed.

"I found this to… I wanted to know why… it… was still…" My jaw dropped. Slowly, the rose was unfurling in front of our eyes. It reached full bloom, and thorns poked out from the stem. Impossibly, it was maturing. I dropped it as a thorn poked my palm. Glaring at wound, my mother merely stared at the plant.

Silence hung in the air, and finally Mom said urgently, "Gracie? I need you to run out to the car. Take the keys, turn on the car, and drive away. Don't wait for me."

"Why should I – "

"Just do it, Grace!" I rarely heard my mother snap at me like that, and something in me became scared. The dream came fluttering into memory, and I panicked. I could guess who was coming next. I turned to run into the kitchen where the keys lay. There he was.

Leaning in the doorway was the golden boy from the woods, exactly as he had been in my dream. I screeched in surprise, I felt Mom grab my shoulders and pull me behind her.

"Ladies, ladies," the man said, an easy smile on his face. "I've merely come to collect what we're owed." He paused as if savoring the moment. "Now, Grace. Let's go."


	4. Truth

My immediate thought was that he was beautiful. Dressed comfortably in a loose white dress shirt and black dress slacks, he was like a model. Somehow he managed to rock the look with a pair of combat boots over the slacks. His hair was like a wild halo of loose curls. It stopped at the base of his neck, and it just screamed to have fingers run through it. Not to mention the way his gray eyes sparkled. Drop dead gorgeous. It took my breath away, I won't lie.

But he was calling for me, and that was what made the image of him shatter. Suddenly I saw the curved smirk and the over-confident air. There was something horribly wrong about this.

He was out of his mind. That was it; he was completely and utterly insane. I stood there, gaping like a fish. How the hell had the rose done that, and how had he gotten into the cabin without a sound? Questions reeling through my mind, I was startled by how angry my mother seemed to be getting.

"You can't have her!" she screeched. "You took Markus from me, you can't have Grace!" I noticed suddenly that one of her arms was held tightly around my waist, while one seemed to be held out towards him with the palm forward. What good was that supposed to do?

He seemed horribly amused by all this. "You honestly think you can keep her from me, Lanora?" My mother seemed to freeze at the name. What had he just called my mother? Lanora or something? This guy was bonkers.

"Mom. Mom what is going on?" I just wanted to know why it seemed like this nutcase and she knew each other. Well, I wanted to know a lot of things, because this was seriously starting to become like some fairy tale… Pausing I thought about the tome of Grimm Fairy Tales I had upstairs. Maybe I should have read that more.

His laughter filled the room. The shockingly warm sound was wrong sounding in the tension filled room. "You haven't told her what she is, have you? Have you even told her the debt that she must pay for you?"

I blinked. Ooookay. This had gone from weird to downright crazy. And it was getting on my nerves. "Listen to me you crazy bastard, you have no right to be here. So get the hell out of our cabin." My chin rose and I gave him my best imperious glare. He snorted at me, and gave me a look which told him he was unimpressed. That made me mad. I tried to take a step forward, but Mom's arm prevented me from moving.

"Don't move, Gracie. I'll take care of this. Just get away from here as fast as possible." My mother's skin seemed to melt, and a woman-thing stood there. Whatever she might be, she had the form of a skinny woman, but her skin was the slick color of a seal. In my shock, I squeaked, and as soon as I felt the arm around my waist loosen, I broke free and ran towards the back door.

I'm not sure what happened behind me. I think I heard my mother's voice saying, "You, focus on me!" and then a loud cracking sound, like someone was breaking floor boards. He shouted in surprise, and then I think I heard a snarl. I was too panicked to think. So I focused on running. I ran out the back door, and ran into the woods.

Looking back, I think that was very possibly the stupidest thing I could have done. But I didn't know that. As I ran, the dream flickered in my mind. Talk about déjà vu. It was action for action accurate. And I could feel that he was coming behind me. I don't know how I knew, but my instincts told me that the thing that had been my mother hadn't been able to hold him off, and he was coming for me.

Unlike in the dream, I tripped on a root. I cried out as I felt a sharp pain in my knee. It was badly bloodied. Why had I chosen to wear a skirt today? Ignoring the fact that it was my favorite skirt, I tore at the fabric and wrapped the bloodied limb up. All the while, I resisted the urge to throw up. People who know me know that I don't function well under stress. Before all major tests or competitions, I have thrown up. This situation was pretty damn stressful, and paired with a massive dislike of blood was making me seriously wonder when I was going to empty my stomach.

Something drove me to stand, and I told my rebellious stomach to hold onto that thought. I continued running in my mangled skirt, and ignored how much my knee was hurting. I just ran. I think it was an adrenaline rush, and I had chosen flight. Which made me think I was a horrible coward. The unhelpful voice in my head began a chant of coward, and I began to lose steam. As I said, I was no great runner.

So I decided to screw it. I turned back towards the direction I was running, and I glared into the woods. I probably didn't look like much right now; a pair of dirty brown boots that went half-way up my calves, a bedraggled brown skirt that was now only covering a quarter of my calves, a bloodied brown bandage, and a green tee shirt that had dirt on it. Not to mention my hair, which probably looked like a wild mess. Yeah, I wasn't much of a striking heroine right now. I would be damned, though, if I didn't at least act like I wasn't scared witless by all the events of today.

Expecting him to come into sight in front of me, I glared into the woods. I saw nothing of the white shirt or golden hair. Which was why I was panicked when he appeared behind me, grasping my neck, my arm pinned to my back. 'Shit, shit, shit,' I thought, gasping as the soft fingers tapped against my neck. My breath constricted in a moment of panic, before I forced a deep breath. 'Calm down, girl. You can manage.' The rational side of me said that I was just thinking bull shit. He had me in a position that put me in a ridiculously bad situation. Hand at my throat, it wouldn't take much to strangle me. Further more, he had my arm pinned up against my back, and could use that to move me around.

I was screwed.

His chin rested on my shoulder, and I could imagine the pleased smile on his face. Like a cat that I had once had, Charlemagne. That cat had been a wily old thing, and had always found ways to get to the glasses of milk that I had accidentally left on the counter. Every time we caught him after he'd knocked over the glass and began to snack, he'd had that horribly pleased look on his face. Like 'I'm smarter than you, and I've gotten what I want'. Arrogant cat. Arrogant man.

"So, Grace. After twelve years you are as enchanting as ever. I have had to take mortals before, but none of them were as interesting as you…"

"Bull shit." I said that first thing that came to mind. Here I was adlibbing, even though it was probably stupid. "You're just saying that to make me melt. You don't give a rat's ass about me." I don't know why I said that, I just know that he froze. If I didn't know better, I'd of said that my words had actually been right on the mark. How I had managed to do it didn't matter. I was just glad that I had made him stop. "Heh. Made ya stop an think, didn't I?" The pleased smirk was mine now, and that made me bold. I stood up taller, and slammed him against the nearest tree.

He released me and grunted. That had clearly only worked because I'd caught him off guard, but I'd take my victories where I got then. Grinning, I ran back towards the cabin. I had to get back to Mom. Who knew what this lunatic had done to her? I was only a little ways away when he materialized in front of me. It was like he was teleporting… I glanced back behind me, and he was gone. No fucking way, he was teleporting! In the time it took me to put two and two together, he'd pinned me against a tree, his face contorted into a snarl. I gasped in pain. He'd forced me against the tree _hard_.

"You're a stupid girl, you know that, right?" He seemed to laugh at my pain. Glaring defiantly at him, I spat in his face. Growling furiously, he pressed harder on the shoulder that he had against the tree, and took my neck into his hands. I froze, the defiance gone. Fear was there. Here it was. He didn't kill me in the dream, but the golden boy was going to kill me here. 'God, I know I'm stupid, but have some mercy on a girl?' I begged it mentally, and pressed myself and close to the tree as I could.

My eyes closed, I only heard the other person approaching. She screamed, and I assumed that it was my mom. I turned my head towards the sound, my eyes snapping open. It was the thing that my mom had turned into. This didn't comfort me. Where had Mom gone?

"Let her go, Arion." The thing's voice was my mother's, but the face was so pale I could see the bones. Not to mention the eyes… the eyes were like obsidian. I turned my gaze away from her. Seeing my distaste, the creature gazed to the side. "Grace… I never wanted you to see me like this. Never. I would have been glad that you never see me like this. You were supposed to grow up like a normal little kid…" Her voice broke. That thing… was my mom? Denial coursed through me. At the same time, though, I knew that each word was true.

"Tell her the rest, Lanora. Tell Grace what her father was, and about the debt you owe." The golden boy's – Arion, as his name was supposedly – voice was cruel. What did he mean by that, I stared at my mother, questioning.

"I…" she stopped, and took a deep breath.

"Mom, don't if you don't want –" My words were cut of with a tight squeeze to the throat. I coughed, and glared at him.

"Go on," Arion called, sneering at her. I hated him. Perhaps that's why I tried to kick him in the gut. It failed. He released his hold me to the tree, grabbed my leg and dragged me down to the ground. Before I could react further, he pinned my arms to my sides, and sat on me. "Stop causing trouble," he hissed at me, before nodding at my mother to continue. I was about to call out to her, but a gag materialized in my mouth. 'Go die in a hole,' I thought at Arion. He gave me a charming smile, and I wished that I could have laser eyes or something as long as I could be free of this.

Mom hesitated, and sighed in defeat. "I really look like this," she said, gesturing towards her inhuman form. "I'm not human, as you may have guessed. I was a member of the faerie court here. Then I was a wild girl, and I was in love with a human." She hung her head as if ashamed by this fact. "As a kelpie, it's quite unthinkable to love a human. Most of the time we drown mortals... But I loved him none the less. I was shocked, though, that when I presented myself in a glamour that he identified what I was and denied me. Broken-hearted, I returned home. Your father wasn't simply human; he was from a long line of spell casters. It is said that such humans are descended from the Fae themselves, and have powers beyond the norm. You could say that he was a wizard."

This sounded crazy. It was really crazy. Everything that was happening here was crazy! Shaking my head in disbelief, I wanted to be sick. Arion just looked like this was the best thing ever. He was amused by how hard this was for my mother to tell this story! I wanted to kick him half-way to China.

"But I refused to give up," Mom continued. "I went to a faerie in the courts known as Mama Thistle. She was said to have great powers, and I thought that she could aid me." A tiny smile formed on her face as she began absorbed in the memory. "She did. She gave me a ring to protect me from the iron that is toxic to all faeries, and gave me a potion to make me seem mortal. There were some catches. I could not return to my original form, or the potions effect would disappear forever, and my magic would be gone. But nothing in the faerie world is free. All comes with a price." She paused, and looked pained. "Mama Thistle was in service to the royals of court, and they demanded that in return for her aid, I would give them my first born child of the union. I agreed, because at the time all I wanted was to have Markus at my side."

I gaped. She said she was going to get rid of me? So much for motherly love! But then… why hadn't they taken me yet? I was certain that the answer would come in time. Arion leaned forward and whispered in my ear, "You're shocked and we haven't even gotten to the good part yet. Patience, Grace." I rolled my eyes at him.

Mom didn't seem to hear him, she just continued as if oblivious to the two of us. "It all worked out, you know. We got married, and we were happy. But he wanted children to watch, and I, forgetful of the price I had paid for him, happily gave him his wish. We had you, and you were beautiful. I knew we couldn't lose you. The way he looked at you… he would have died to keep you with him. I knew that we couldn't separate my family. So after five years of marriage, I told my husband the truth.

"He didn't take it well, but he knew that he loved me, regardless of what I might be. The only thing he did not forgive me for was promising you away. We ran with his help. He distracted them, and we ran. For four years they didn't find us. Yet at the same time, I had to return to this camp yearly to stay alive. Fae get weak in a world full of iron – with or without protection – and I feared that due to your half-nature you might be affected in a similar way… On your fourth year they found us. That was when they took Markus. He spared you, gave them his life in return for eighteen years. He thought that, given time, I would be able to keep you in ignorance and find a way to free you.

"Yet the day you got lost… I feared they had lost patience with the bargain and had taken you regardless." Her voice cracked. "I… when I found you on the ground I was so relieved that you had found your way home. But you told your story and I became afraid. They had found you, and the rose you showed me stunk of magic that was clearly keyed to you. I think it's like a signature – you accepted it, and that was your way of 'agreeing' to the bargain. I was furious. They had tricked you into accepting something that you had no knowledge of. So I began to work harder to protect you from them. I told you to get rid of the rose…

"I should have known better! I should have known that such things couldn't have been destroyed, that they would just come back…" She stopped the unbelievable tale. This was madness. Something inside of me told me that it had to be true. I remembered reading somewhere that Faeries couldn't tell a lie.

"I – I'm so sorry." My mother dropped to her knees. Arion smiled.

"Now. Let's try this again, shall we?" he said, the arrogant asshole. "I'm taking you with me, my dear, and you will listen. You are bound by contract." He waved the rose in front of my face, taunting me. Breaking off the thorns, he tucked the flower behind my ear in a surprisingly tender manner. "Come. We're going." He stood and pulled me up with him. Snapping his fingers, the gag disappeared.

"So my mother is a kelpie… you're what, a pixie?"

"Not quite," he replied, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smile. Well then. Whatever that meant.

"Where are we going?" I asked, as he tugged me along.

"You'll see."


	5. Journey

We walked – well, he walked, I limped – through the woods. The question that kept popping up in my mind was why I kept following this man. I didn't have to listen to him. Hell, I didn't have to do a thing he said! The rebellious part of me was not overwhelming the bit of me that said that if I did something stupid, something really bad would happen.

Silence permeated the air between us. I didn't mind. It gave me time to sort my thoughts. I wasn't really sure how I felt about this whole 'your mom is a kelpie and your dad is a wizard' thing. I'd read books like this before. What had happened? Oh yeah, the girl fell in love with the guy who took her from her boring life. Glancing at Arion, I thought that hell would freeze over first.

I guess this is what every girl is supposed to secretly want; a secret life. As a person reading Harry Potter, you secretly pray that when you are eleven you'll be whisked off to Hogwarts with the arrival of your letter. Let me tell you, I wasn't so pleased with this turn of events. My life had been pretty good. I had been all set up for my senior year. I had had plans for it to be the best year of my life. So much for that.

Furthermore, what was Mom going to do? She couldn't very well explain why it was that I was suddenly gone. Worry gripped me, and my anger began to fade. Glancing back into the woods, I grimaced. What was going to happen to her? According to her story, she couldn't go back to our old life. Would I ever get to see her again?

"She'll be fine," Arion said, as if reading my mind. "Your mother is a resourceful woman." I tilted my head at him. What did he know about my mother?

"What will happen to her?" I just had to ask. I couldn't leave it at that. I had to _know_ that nothing back would happen to her.

Arion shrugged. "If it were me I would kill her. She betrayed our bargain, and I don't think that she deserves to be pardoned." His voice was bland, as if it didn't matter. That made me furious.

Stopping, I held my place. I would not go an inch further. "That's my mother we're talking about. Don't you _dare_ go near her." He tried to pull at me, and managed to move me only slightly before he realized that I wasn't going to go anywhere before he amended what he said.

"Alright," he turned, those gray eyes dark again. Getting to close for comfort, I backed up a little. I really needed to stop shooting off my mouth. "I don't know what they'll do to her. I do, know, however that the Fae are not forgiving. I can, however, guarantee that you'll never see your mother again." I gaped. Never. Again. The words sat heavy on my heart.

"Never?" the word came out softly as I tried to comprehend it's full meaning. "As in never ever?" He nodded curtly. My heart felt as though it could break, and I finally did it. I collapsed to the dirty forest floor and emptied the contents of my stomach.

Heaving, I was surprised by how much was left from breakfast. Feeling ill, I shuddered as the remaining tremors wracked my body. Those were always the worst – when you were choking on the taste of your vomit and then you had those empty heaves. Pain made tears roll down my face.

"Never again. Why not!" I cried out angrily to the floor. I felt broken, sick, and defeated. It was the worst feeling ever.

He knelt by me, and sighed as if deeply annoyed. "We can't risk her trying to steal you away again, or putting ideas in your head. You'll be distanced." That emotionless I-don't-care voice again. I wanted to punch him for it, but I was too sick to do so. "Now get up. We need to keep moving."

Making a wobbly attempt at standing, I fell to the ground. My knee. My freaking knee was in pain. Glancing at it, I noticed that it had been dirtied, and my skin around it was plastered with blood, leaves, and dirt. Hah. Even though I was resisting him only because my knee refused to be stood on, it felt good to resist. Especially when he growled in annoyance.

He mumbled something that I could have sworn was, "Curse your human gene's fragility." Not my fault because I was half human. Talk to my parents. Wait. You couldn't, because you killed one of them. The thought rekindled my need to fight whatever was going to happen to me. Like hell I was going anywhere with the people who had killed my father.

Perhaps that was why I was surprised when he scooped me up and carried me princess style. Our closeness made me uncomfortable, and I squirmed in annoyance. A warning glare and something akin to growl from him made me stop. Pouting, I crossed my arms. We traveled the rest of the woods in silence.

Deeper and deeper we went. Mother and I had never traversed this deep into the forest. Honestly, that didn't surprise me much. Why tempt fate? But what really got me was how deep we did go. Who knew that there had been so much woodland out here? It was wild. The journey seemed to go on forever, and I quickly lost track of time and the number of trees we passed. Playing a lame car game like I Spy would have been boring on this trip. 'I spy with my little eye something brown.' 'Let me guess, a stick. Again.' 'Yep.' Not much entertainment at all. I even got tired enough that I allowed my head to rest against Arion's chest.

It was ideal. Not at all. But I didn't want to hold my head erect any longer, and that was my only option. He didn't protest. In fact, he didn't do much of anything. His arrogant façade had faded after his anger, and he remained as blank looking as a stone. It was nice, though. He was well-built, I could feel that. The rise and fall of his chest provided a peaceful rhythm to the trip beyond the pace he was walking at. I hate to admit it, but I fell asleep.

I would have really loved to know what had happened next. There must have been some awesome and magical transition between the world of Faerie and ours. I missed it all during my nap. But who could blame me? I had just gone through the most stressful day of my entire life, and I was tired from all that running.

Needless to say, it was something of a shock when I woke up to see a little green thing flitting around in front of my face.


	6. Preparations

The thing hung there, as if it paused in whatever it was doing to notice me slowly opening my eyes. I thought I was crazy. Hey, I thought I was dreaming. It would have been nice if I had, but you know how reality is. It comes slamming back, and there's nothing that you can do to make it go away. Events came back; Arion, my mother is a kelpie, my father was a magical person, and I was now part of the contract that got them together.

That sucked. But my attention was now mainly focus upon the creature that spun about my head, and suddenly a little head popped fully into my vision.

The little thing was green, head to toe. Its dress appeared to be made of leaves, and its tiny features were green. Even its long hair – which went to about her butt – was the same light shade of green. Its eyes were black, like my mom's eyes had been. Not to mention the little yellow flower that was affixed to her dress.

Blinking, I started, and swung at the little creature. It darted out of my range, and I pinned myself up against the head board. Wait, head board? I frowned. The last thing I remembered was walking through the woods. Thinking, I tried to remember what had happened.

I honestly didn't remember anything, other than hearing a tiny snippet of a conversation that even now was too vague to remember. Focusing on the little thing, I figured that it could answer my questions. Before I could, though, I noticed that it was laughing at me. It was a tiny sound, and it was like the squeaking of a mouse.

"What's so funny?" I asked, intrigued.

"You," she promptly responded, before breaking out into another spasm of giggles. "Prince Arion said that you over-reacted to everything, and he wasn't kidding." My eyes widened. _Prince_ Arion. He was a prince? I sighed. Of course I would manage to piss off royalty on first sight. All in a days work for me.

"Great. Way to go, me," I said sarcastically. The faerie gave me a strange look, and I shrugged it off. Relaxing in the bed, I stared at the girl. "Well… Where am I? And who are you? For that matter _what_ are you?"

"He also said that you asked a lot of questions." Tittering a little more, the little creature perched upon the bedside table's candle. "You're in Merriwind, and I," she paused to make a little twirl on the candle, "Am to keep an eye on you. You may call me Winny."

I sighed. Not a great answer, but it would do for now. What was Merriwind? If I was left with all these unanswered questions, I would explode. Silently, I reminded myself of the one thing my mother said to me most often, 'Patience, Grace.'

Getting out of bed, I felt rather useless. What I was I supposed to do with myself? And then I paused. Glancing down at myself, I noticed that I was no longer in my ratty clothes, and that my knee no longer ached. Staring at the medieval style gown I wore, I couldn't help but to feel an edge of happiness. There was something so satisfying about being dressed like this… I felt like a princess. Not to mention it was colored the loveliest deep olive green. These people knew their stuff.

Twirling once, I took pleasure in the soft fabrics, and the way the sleeves fit against my arms. Even the lighter green ribbon was soft, and even though it hung off my shoulders, I was pleased with it. Then it crossed my mind that someone would have had to change me while I was asleep, and I grimaced.

"Don't you like it? I picked it out myself. Your old clothes were icky." I turned to her, and nodded slowly. I grabbed the nearest chair and sunk into it. I didn't want to think about the dress or where I was. I wanted to think about my mom. My mother, who I was never going to see again. My shoulders slumped, and my head dropped into my hands. All instincts screamed for me to cry, but I didn't want to give them the satisfaction of knowing I was miserable.

I heard a tiny sigh in the room, and the gentle flutter of wings as Winny buzzed about the room. A brush was soon felt going through my hair, and my head snapped up, only a little wet from tears. At least my hair could act as a screen from the world. It took me a few moments to track what it was that Winny was saying, but I got there. "You know, normally I tangle hair like this." The little faerie chuckled. "Aye, I would have had great fun with your hair… But I'm ordered to take care of you."

A small, bitter laugh came out of me. "Is that all you faeries do? Cast misery down on hapless humans?" Like my family. My entire damn family was plagued by this faerie magic. The brushing stopped.

"You judge us," Winny accused, in a soft tone. "_You._ A Halfling _thing_ is judging us. A _human_, none the less. You creatures…" her anger made her choke. "You evil mortals poison things everyday! You're selfish and disgusting and greedy. You destroy forests all so you can have your fire and paper, and you judge _us_!" She bashed me with the brush, and zipped away from me, glaring daggers across the room. "Ignorant, stinky, self-centered creatures all of you." She wasn't going near me any more, and I just sat in amazement. Was that how they really saw it?

Blinking, I grasped for words. "Well…" I paused, and rubbed the aching spot on my head thoughtfully. "I guess you're right." I didn't like saying it. It was like saying that it was alright that they had taken me away from my life. Yet Winny had a point. Humans weren't the greatest neighbors, and with all the things we did to their home, we made it harder and harder for them to live. Grudgingly I would accept the point she made. This did not make me a willing prisoner. No Stockholm Syndrome today, thanks.

Looking satisfied by that response, Winny flitted back over, and brushed at my hair furiously. She clearly wasn't over her anger yet, and I was not appreciating the beating she was giving my scalp… I needed her to calm down. Thinking back to what she said, I carefully broached a new subject. "So… whose hair did you have the most fun tangling?" Winny struck me as the type who loved to brag. Perhaps that would ease things up?

Slowly, Winny began. "Weeell… do you really want to know?" I nodded, all the while thinking that I would do anything to spare myself from having my hair brushed so brutally. Giggling in glee, she started on a tale about how she'd once had the best of times tangling some woman's hair… when she started mentioning that this had occurred in England, and how the woman's hand-maidens had always been aggravated about the knots, I stopped her.

"Wait… when did this happen?" Winny paused, thoughtfully.

"Mmmmm… A long time ago. How am I supposed to know? Human time is different from ours. I just remember that she got into big gowns, and looked like a prune. She was an ugly queen." Winny said it nonchalantly, yet an idea crossed my mind.

"Queen… Elizabeth, perhaps?"

There was silence, and then a squeal of excitement. "Yes! That one! You're so good!" I sighed. Queen Elizabeth, one of the most famous women of all time, and yet Winny barely remembered her name. I barely heard the other stories the pixie told. I was trying to remember how old Winny would have to be in order to have tangled the ancient Queen's hair… That would make her… I kicked myself for not paying more attention to history. Whatever age it was, she was more than at least 200 years. Or so I believed… Don't trust me, I'm the worst at history.

The brushing went on for a few minutes. Winny had maintained a constant stream of chatter, and I had inserted a few comments here and there to assure that I was listening. Truthfully, I think I missed half of what she said. My mind was far away, and I couldn't quite muster the energy to listen to everything that Winny spoke of. This situation reminded me of Beauty and the Beast. My school had done the show my junior year. Belle's song "Home" summed up how I was feeling, and I suddenly knew very acutely what she had felt when the Beast had proclaimed that she would never see her father again.

'_I can, however, guarantee that you'll never see your mother again.'_ The words seemed to ring in my head. I restrained the need to blubber like a lost child. My emotional state was less than peachy, and I knew at that moment that I wouldn't be able to handle any more distressing news. What was next? I thought back to the movie, and remembered that Belle had to break a spell on the prince. 'Please, please, please no Beasts. No spells. Nothing more today. Pleeease.' The thoughts sounded whiny to me, but I was sick of this whole faeries and magic business.

Winny's pleased squeak alerted me to the fact that she was no longer brushing my hair. In fact, I had zoned out so entirely that I had even missed when she'd tied my hair up into an elaborate knit snood of some kind. How convenient that there was a mirror there. It had little gold leaves in it, and pieces of broken green glass. The snood – I think that's what my mother had called it when she'd given me one ages ago – was white, and stood out starkly against my hair. The effect was… different.

The mirror disappeared, and I blinked. More faerie magic. Ugh. "You're ready!" the little pixie cried out to me, pulling me out of my seat. "I really managed to make you look good. Right? You're so much better now!"

I sighed. "I suppose," I replied, before my mind caught up to what she had said. "Wait. Ready for what?"

Rolling her eyes, Winny looked at me like I was an idiot child who needed everything explained. "Ready to see the King and his sons. Duh." I don't think I processed entirely. She must be kidding. She didn't just say 'the King and his sons'.

"What?" I sounded like a clueless idiot, but I really hoped that I had misheard her.

"The King and his sons," she stated, loudly and slowly. "You humans really are slow." I blinked like an idiot, and plunked back down into my seat.

"You can't be serious."


	7. Stubborn

Winny looked rather peeved with me. Sighing, she put her face into her hand. The term I instantaneously thought of was face palm. A friend of mine – Miranda – had been very hasty to use that whenever one of my friends or I said something rather stupid. Yet right now I wasn't feeling like I had said anything deserving of a face palm.

Regaining her composure, Winny put her hands on her hips. "Do you think I would joke about a thing like this! Now get up!" I could tell that she was getting fed up with my clueless attitude, and I still was trying to compute.

A meeting with the King and his sons. The King as in the King of the Faeries? This really was starting to become too much like a fantasy story. Not to mention his sons, which meant princes, which meant Arion. I didn't want that. So I gripped my chair, and tilted my chin up ever so very slightly. I had once played a Queen in a play. I could pull off this 'ordering people around' thing.

"I won't go. You can't make me." I could see Winny tense up with those words. She glared at me, and I glared right back. I. Would. Not. Budge.

A deep groan escaped her, and the annoyance was gone in the bat of an eye. "C'moooooon," she whined. "Please just come! I really _can't_ make you do anything. I just need to get you there!" I shook my head, and turned my chair away from the doors. The last thing I wanted today was to meet the father of Arion, see Arion again, and meet whatever brothers that the bastard may have. No sir, I wasn't going to suffer that hell.

There was silence, and I heard the door slam. Spinning around towards the sound, and noticed that I was blissfully alone. Standing, I rushed around the space they had given me as a room.

It was well lit, and the walls were a deep brown. Each lamp gave off an orangey light. All the same, there were no windows. Nothing that I could even consider climbing out of. They had clearly thought about that. The bed was large – just like the room. The chair sat next to a desk, I now noticed. I dove into the drawers, hoping to find something –anything, really – that I could use to escape. Nadda, nilch, zip. Feeling a little more defeated, I ran to the door, and tugged. No luck.

Cursing my bad luck, I retreated to the bed. Clearly I was stuck. Surveying the room, I took note of the wardrobe, and the bathroom. Since the drawers had been quite empty, I severely doubted that there would be anything of help in either of those rooms. I hugged myself. Was this room where I was to stay for all my days? I felt lost. This room was so dark – at least compared to what I was used to. The bed was soft and comfy, but it wasn't _my_ bed.

The thoughts that barraged my mind made me feel so along. Faces of friends and loved ones crossed my minds. People I would never see again. I would just disappear to them… It shattered me inwardly. I didn't allow myself to do the classic 'collapse to the bed and sob' thing. The tear came out. I won't lie. I wanted to die. Well, that might be a bit of an overstatement. All the same.

I sniffled a little, and calmed myself down. I rubbed away the tears. I would not show I was crying. That would give them a victory that they didn't need. Sitting there, I told myself that I would be myself. I would not bow to these people. I was my mother's daughter, and I would rebel against them. My parents had worked so hard to make sure I didn't land in their clutches. Now that I was there, I swore that I would make it hard for them to keep me.

That was the pep-talk I had needed, clearly, because I felt the little warm tendrils of confidence coming back to me. I even got myself to smile. I would be glad that I managed to rally myself in time, for that moment the doors burst in, and I gasped. There stood Arion.

I noticed quickly that he was back to the angry look. Did he only have three settings? Arrogant, blasé, and furious; he'd really have girls lining up. Inwardly rolled my eyes, but I was tense outwardly. From what I knew of him, I knew that anger came with a fight. Oh was I ready to fight. I was ready to throw back all of the annoyance I felt from my captivity at him. It was totally go time.

His eyes focused on me, and he strode towards me. I noticed that he was going to try to intimidate me by pinning me to the bed. 'Way ahead of you,' I thought, standing up. I matched strides with him, until we were close enough to have our toes touching. He avoided contact, and I was quite ready to rule this.

Very clearly, I remembered the note that my drama teacher had given me when I had been the evil queen character. She'd come up on stage, and straightened my posture. 'You're the queen. Act like you own everything and everyone on this stage! You don't take no for an answer, and there isn't anyone here that can tell you what to do!' With the memory my posture straightened. I would be that queen. Arion opened his mouth to speak, and I knew that it would be fatal to my winning of the argument if he got the first word in.

So I smirked, and said, "Don't you it's rude to burst into a ladies room?" He seemed to lose steam. He'd been expecting something different. He ignored the question, and returned to what he'd originally meant to say.

"Mmm. The King orders your presence. You should learn that you must come." He rose an eyebrow. That made me furious. What was I to them? A dog?

"I am not some slave that will come when you call," I responded as calmly as I could muster. Honestly, I could hear how my retrained fury made my voice tremble.

Arion titled his head. "We own you. You signed the contract with the accepting of the gift." He plucked that infuriating rose out of no where – where had he kept that – and waggled it in my face. I was seriously sick of the damn thing. "Not to mention…" he continued, "You spilt blood on it. Nothing binds a person better than blood." Looking enormously pleased with himself, I decided that I hated this man. He made me sick, for starters, but his mood swings made me crazy.

"I don't remember spilling any blood." Thinking back to the incident with the rose, I didn't remember distinctly anytime when I had gotten blood on the flower… Until I recalled the tiny stab of pain as the rose matured… I glanced at my palm. A little red dot decorated it, and I grimaced. Curses. Foiled again.

A warm laugh escaped him. "No more trouble, Grace. Come along." The man turned fluidly towards the door.

"No."

It was tiny, at first. I would not go with him. I would resist. He seemed to freeze, and didn't even turn back to say, "What?"

"No. I won't go with you. Nothing you can do will make me." I hooked myself to a bed post, and clung to it. "You will have to wrestle me off this bed post to get me to go anywhere with _you_." I said the last word with as much vehemence as I could muster.

Once again, he turned towards me. "I am getting tired of your pettiness, Grace," his voice dipped dangerously. "Come." The last word held no request – it was an order plain and simple. I responded by coolly flipping him the bird, and gripping the bed post even tighter.

The corners of his mouth twitched. "I had hoped it wouldn't come to this… but I invoke the contract. You will _come here_." I laughed at him. I laughed. I laughed until a crippling pain filled me.

I gasped. What was it like? Imagine a million needles being forced into your skin, and you wouldn't even be close. I could feel something sharp pushing up from under my skin, and when the first one broke through, I screamed. Thorns. Thorns were popping out of me! I panicked, and Arion just watched.

After a moment, another followed. At which point, he leaned over to me and whispered in my ear, "Just say that you agree to come with me, and the pain shall go away." Tears streaming out of my eyes, I nodded. "Out loud, my dear. I want to hear it."

"I…" a wave of pain came, and the rest barely came out, "agree." As soon as I said that, the pain dissipated, and the thorns returned under my skin. The wounds closed, as if they had never been there. Goddamn faerie magic. And I watched the whole thing undo itself with a morbid fascination. Feeling a wave of nausea, I took deep breaths. No vomiting.

"Shall we go?" His tone was pleasant. Like nothing had happened. If I could, I would have punched him. The more I considered it, the more it sounded like a wonderful idea.

I stood, and he held out his arm. Grudgingly, I took it, even through kissing a viper sounded like it would be more pleasant. What bothered me even more was the fact that he gave me a tiny smile after I did so. He smiled at me like the perfect prince charming. How vexing, I thought. It was probably because he could tell that I was still shaken from the torture I had just experienced.

Acting as a gentleman, he led me out of the room. It could have been picturesque, if it hadn't been for that fact that I looked like I was ready to kill Arion. He turned to glanced at me, and sighed as if disappointed. "Smile for my father, Grace. Your sullen face will put him off."

Returned his remark with a glare, I gave him a brisk and false smile. "Screw you," I replied, in the politest tone that I could say. His glower made me smile, and I plastered that pleased look on. It seemed to bother him more, and I soared with glee. The walk to the king was silent from that point on.


	8. The King

He swept me through the palace – or at least I assumed that's where we were – at a brisk pace. It was as if he didn't want me to see it. I was dragged past many a hallway. It was about as well lit as my room. While we walked, I noticed that we attracted a great deal of attention. People kept staring at us. Well, I guess they weren't really people, and it was more likely that they were staring at me…

The creatures that stared at us varied from the unspeakably beautiful to the grotesque. It made me shudder. As a child, faeries are supposed to be sweet and beautiful. That image was quickly dying for me. As I saw more of them, the more I realized how narrow the human view really was. There were no faeries with sparkling pink wings that were eager to grant wishes. They could be ugly, cruel, and flat out evil.

My thoughts kept me distracted, which was nice, I guess. The less I focused on where we were headed, the less ill I felt. On the other hand, I would have to get help to return to my room. I would get lost in these endless corridors. That possibility made me shudder. Lost in here? Bad enough that I was held captive, but to be lost in the castle? I shook the thought off. I would reserve that for my nightmares.

"We're nearing. Try to be polite. You will find my father has a temper much quicker than mine." Arion dragged me back to reality. Again. He appeared to be quite good at that. His voice cut through my thoughts. Which was the case with few. In fact, I hadn't found someone who could do it as well as he could. I frowned.

He tugged at me harshly, and shot me a look that told me that I should behave. Hah. He wanted me to behave? After what happened to me today? He really was crazy.

The hall he lead me into was… breathtaking. The ceiling soared above us, and was dripping with little candles. It was like they were suspended in air by little strings. Magic, I assumed. The walls were patched gold and brown, and the floor was shiny and black. Tables draped in red surrounded us, and I noticed that the room was empty. We walked through the rows, and I could imagine what it would be like in here with the room full… How many could fit here?

At the very head of the room sat an impressive throne. It was entirely too large. It appeared to be made of some black wood, and was laced with little gold streaks. Even more impressive was the middle aged giant that sat there. His legs were crossed comfortably, and his fingers were intertwined and placed against his breast, as if he were in deep thought. His hair held a russet color, and he bore a large majestic beard. His crown was a gold circlet. Nothing more. I assumed that this man was the King.

The man seemed to smile as we approached, and sat up straighter. Arion stopped a few feet away, and I kept going awkwardly. Hey, I'm not versed in courtly rules, so don't judge me. He bowed, and I stayed standing, looking panicked. I didn't know what to do. "Curtsy," Arion hissed in annoyance. I did so, merely because I guess I was slightly intimidated by this King figure. He seemed kind… but I could tell one common trait amongst faeries was a flighty disposition.

"Father, I present to you Grace –"

"Yes, yes, boy, I know very well who she is." His voice rumbled pleasantly. It reminded me of someone… Ah yes! I had once had a math teacher like that. Mr. O'Brien had been a beast of a man, but had the nicest disposition of anyone I'd never known. I guess a part of me hoped that he would be like this. At the same time, I was wary. Goodness knew what dark temper hid beneath that bushy beard. The Kind smiled at me, and continued. "You must be Grace. I am King Oberon, much like my many forefathers." He stopped as if expecting me to say something.

I really didn't know what to say. What did you say to that? 'Oh cool, like the guy in Shakespeare's play? Cool!' Or maybe, 'I really don't want to talk to you. You're the asshole that ruined my life.' Maaaybe not. Arion elbowed me, and I scowled at him. What did he want to say? I pulled at something to get the awkward silence to go away. Someone else did that for me.

He came running in, and slid on the floor. Looking too excited for his own good, the teenager – he looked to be about seventeen – grinned at the king. In a matter that was the opposite of what Arion had done, he bowed hastily to the King. "Father! Guess what? I was toying with my idea of using iron to – " His father raised an eyebrow and the boy stopped talking.

Looking at him closely, I noticed that his hair was a lighter russet than his father – a little more gold – and I could see a clear resemblance to Arion in his features. Another prince. Oh goody. Arion made a click of disgust. Well, that clearly told me how he felt about this brother.

"Warren, you're late." His father's voice was firm. The teenager sighed.

"Sorry." He turned to me. "Nice to meet you. Grace, right? The mortal we brought here for, why?" He – Warren – glanced at his father. Oberon grimaced.

"In good time. As soon as your brother comes. Then I shall tell you of Grace's future." Well, that bothered me. Who was he to say what my future was? In fact, why was I bound to this damned contract anyway? I remembered that my mother had once been ranting about a case where a woman who had barely been capable of speaking English had been tricked by her husband's lawyers into signing something. The contract had been deemed useless because of it. I hadn't been paying enough attention, but I would sure as hell us that argument.

I broke free of Arion's arm, and backed away from the three men. "You can't tell me what I'm going to do! I am not your slave, regardless of what you may think! So back up."

Rolling his eyes, Arion stepped forward. "We went over this already. The contract -"

"Screw the damned contract! How is that even legal? I mean, isn't there some law against making someone signing a contract that they didn't even know about?"

It was clear Arion was about to argue with me, but his father cut him off with a sharp chopping motion with his hands. The look he gave his son said 'I'll take care of this.' When his gaze turned to me, his eyes bore naught but steel. Now I knew where Arion had gotten his eyes. He stood, approaching me. Apparently he'd also taught his son the same intimidation tactics.

"I beg to differ. You were fully cognitive when you accepted the gift that my son gave you. Don't you know that help never comes for free?" I scraped my memory. What else was it that had bothered my mother?

"Yes, but I was six. I didn't know that taking the rose would sign me up for captivity when I was eighteen. Kids are stupid, and you can't take their word as valid. You could have coerced me into agreeing." That sounded about right, and I gave him a smirk.

He slapped me. The bastard slapped me! Hard! Ow. My hand reached for my cheek. Damn him. "You're being insolent, and I don't appreciate it."

"Besides," Arion interjected, "I told you the conditions of the rose. You took it out of my hand. You agreed. I don't think you remember." Nursing my cheek, I ached with anger and embarrassment. My throat closed with the effort it took not to break out into tears. A chant began in my mind. 'No tears. Not in front of them.'

I stood up straight, and glared at them. "I refuse to be enslaved. You can't cage me."

"We can. We have. You shall be tamed. You shall see." The King settled back into throne. The words rumbled in the room, and I wished that I could make him eat all of those words. They seemed to sink into my skin and envelope me though. I shuddered. Hugging myself, I stayed away from Arion. I noticed that Warren and Arion now stood to the right of their father's throne. I felt alone, and I felt like I was someone they were getting ready to sentence to years in prison.

"What did I miss?" I turned towards the last voice, and there stood a very well built man. He had his father's size, but his hair was golden. It was cut close to his head, and I noted a bit of stubble around his lips. In a movie, he would have been cast as the lead male protagonist in a heart beat. Why were all of these men gorgeous!

"Ahhh. My eldest. Grace, this is Tiernan." I glanced at him, and didn't like the arrogance that radiated off him. So they were all gorgeous and annoying. Someone kill me. There was some greater force that wanted to screw with my head. If they were there, I would have shouted at them 'You've messed with me, ya happy now?'

"A charmer, I'm sure," I mumbled. Tiernan sauntered up to me and gave my hand a kiss. My stomach rolled.

"Quite a rare beauty," the prince said. Ugggh. What a predictable line. The only way that could have been worse was if he had said, 'Enchantée, Mademoiselle.' "So why is she here, Father? A present for one of us, perhaps?" That nearly made me ill. A present? For one of _them_? Something had it out for me.

The King chuckled. I was guessing that he favored Tiernan over Arion. Goodness knew why. "Ahhh, no." His face darkened. "It's something to do with the matter of succession." I noticed that both Arion and Tiernan seemed extremely interested in what Oberon had to say. I was interested to notice, though, that Warren rolled his eyes. I stared at him. He seemed to be the most interesting of the three – that was clear to me. He glanced up at me, flashed a grin, and winked. Shaking my head, I turned my attention back to Oberon.

"It has been decided that the one of you that wins this girl's heart shall be the next king." My heart stopped. What? No way. No freaking way. He must be crazy.

All three of us had similar reactions. I shouted that he must be crazy, and that I wouldn't marry one of them. I think Arion said something about it being against some law or some such that a prince marries a human, and Tiernan was protesting that since he was the eldest, he had the best claim to the thrown. The King silenced us with another bellow.

"It's not my idea. It was your mother's. I shall stand by that. You know… because that was the last wish she made before…" He stopped, and I could tell that he was genuinely grieved by whatever had happened to the Queen. I assumed she had died.

"Father, it's insane." Tiernan said. "We can't marry a Halfling. Arion had a point."

"A powerful Halfling. Her blood will make strong children." The King pointed out. Oh, so that's what I was. A source of power. Cool.

"It's still useless. She can't tap into it," Arion pointed out. We agreed on something; this marrying me idea was a bad one. Who knew that we would ever manage to agree on something!

The King made a gesture, and a woman came out from behind the throne. That is, if you could call her a woman. She was definitely a female. A man wouldn't have such a large chest. But her hair was short, gray, and wild around her head. Her face looked remarkably like a pig's, and it was hard to keep eye contact with her dark eyes. She also had the misfortune to be short and very stout. "Mama Thistle shall remedy that. My word is final. In order to be king, you shall have to win this girl's affection."

Like hell they would. "You seem to be forgetting that I might not be willing to play your game. I would rather marry a mutated pig than marry one of them."

The King turned to glare at me. "You shall participate. In fact, I will make you obey. My son has made you experience the effects of the rose, no?" I froze. The memory of the pain was burned into my mind. "I can tell. You shall choose one of my sons. I won't hear another word about it."

"You can't –"

"I can, and I have!" He thundered. "Ah yes… another rule… None of you may use the rose to force Grace into anything. That right remains mine, and mine alone." He paused before exiting to bark out, "Warren!" The russet haired boy froze. "You shall escort Lady Grace back to her rooms. Make sure she remains locked there. Now, all of you. Out of my sight!"

Warren glanced at me, and seemed to grimace. Sighing, he held out his arm. I shook my head at him. I would not allow them to pretend that they were being gentlemanly to me. "Come on then," Warren said his voice weary sounding.


	9. Looking Forward

Warren kept glancing at me sideways through the halls. I couldn't entirely be certain, but I think he was trying to figure me out. After a while I became thoroughly annoyed with the darting looks, and snapped at him.

"What? Why do you keep staring at me?" I guess I was still a little tense from this new piece of news. Marrying a prince… that was supposed to be a girl's dream come true, right? I didn't even want to contemplate what it would be like to marry one of them. Why me? The question kept coming back around. Why did it seem like today punishment upon punishment was landing upon my shoulders?

I was certain that if I were to ever say 'It couldn't get any worse, could it?' it most certainly would.

He laughed. That was the prince's response, which puzzled me greatly. "You really are something. I've never seen a human stand up to my father like that. In fact, I don't believe I've ever seen someone resist my father." I blinked at him.

"Yay for me?" I said. I was confused by Warren. He wasn't being a massive asshole to me. A radical concept, it seemed, for these princes.

"Yay for you indeed," he replied, and grin appearing on his face. "It takes a strong person to tell him off like that. An admirable quality, Lady Grace." I shrugged. Was it really that strange for someone to be able to stand up for themselves?

"Grace," I said absent-mindedly. "I sound like someone I'm not when you tag on the 'Lady'."

"It's your heritage," he pointed out. "Your mother's family is royal." That stopped me. My mother's family. Mom had always said that she'd had many cousins, but because of something she'd done, they never wanted to see her again. Perhaps there was an ounce of truth in that. It would match up with her story… "You know, Lanora was once a hand-maiden to the Queen. An interesting woman, I'm told. The most beautiful lady in the court – besides her majesty herself." I don't know why, but those words made me angry. Perhaps I was still in denial. Or perhaps I needed to know that my mother's past wasn't just a lie.

I had frozen, and he turned to look at me. Perhaps he noticed that I was not appreciating the stories he was trying to tell. "Look," I said, my anger barely being reigned in. "I guess you're trying to be nice, but my mother is Christina Donovan. She was a divorce attorney, and the best mom there ever was. She made pancakes every Friday morning, and always loved me. That's all I need to know about her."

Warren looked puzzled by my outburst, but that made me feel affirmed about who she was. No matter what her name actually was, she was my mother. She was the woman who made me pancakes, and knew everything there was to know about me. It might seem silly, but I felt worlds better for it. I began to stride ahead, and he quickly caught up to me.

"Stop!" He cried out to me, and I didn't heed his call. I'd figure these halls out on my own. Perhaps a stupid assumption to make, but I was self-sufficient enough. Grabbing my arm, he spun me around. "Look. Calm down. You don't have a clue as to where you're going, and you don't need to be pissed at me. I don't even want to be king. Count me out of the running. I'll leave the foolish courting antics to my brothers." I blinked at him. Maybe that was part of the reason that I was mad at him. Glancing at him uncomfortably, he grinned and said, "Friends?" He held out his hand to shake, and I took it slowly.

Beaming at me boyishly, he continued, "You missed the hallway back there. Come on." I sighed as he lead to me to my room. Friends with Warren? Maybe. I still didn't really know him. But it made me feel better to have at least one person who I didn't need to worry about slapping me around.

I wasn't entirely certain how I felt about him, honestly. He seemed like a nice enough guy, and he said that he had no interest in the throne. But for all I knew it was a clever façade. With these people, I really couldn't be sure. All the same, having a 'friend' in these halls would give me a great deal of relief. I would have to think about it. These were dangerous waters, and I firmly believed that I needed to tread slowly.

We arrived at my room in good time, and we said goodbye in a civil manner. Perhaps I was a little icy towards him. I didn't know that I could trust him. Who could I trust? In this place, there was nothing comforting, and nothing that seemed even remotely possible. Not to mention the mood swings that the Faeries appeared to go through. Seating myself down on the bed, I glanced at the finery I was adorned in. Was there a mirror here?

Heading towards the bathroom, I found a looking glass. The person I saw there had my face, but looked like she belonged in an illustration from Grimm's Fairy Tales. I could be an enchantress or a princess. Where was me in this? I wore jeans and tee-shirts, and looked like a normal person. I picked the snood out of my hair, and allowed the curls to hang around my head. Better. But there were no comfy jeans to change into – only this dress. I sighed in annoyance.

I turned away from the mirror, and glanced back into it once. There was a face there. I screamed.

The face seemed as startled my shout as I was by its appearance. As I looked at it more, I noticed that it was a vague outline of a woman's face. "What? Do I have a pimple? Is it that bad?" The woman seemed to be panicked.

"Nooo," I replied. "You do know you're in a mirror, right?" The woman focused on me, and seemed to roll her eyes.

"Of course I do. It's dreadful in here, let me tell you. Simply dreadful." Her voice sounded somewhat dramatic. The way one would think a diva would talk. I walked towards the glass, and touched it. The woman frowned at me and declared, "Don't do that! Please, it's simply offensive."

This was truly baffling. "Ah – well… I'm sorry. Talking mirrors aren't exactly common."

"I know that! Ah. What sorrow is mine!" She gave an impressive wail, and I covered my ears. She was being extremely loud.

"Well. Miss…?"

"Leroux. Marie Leroux. I was once a great beauty in the world of men. But then I was swept off my feet by a faerie man!" I opened my mouth to say that it was unfortunate that such a thing would happen, but she continued. Apparently I was being told this story, regardless of whether or not I actually cared. "Ahh. We were so in love, Stephano and I. Yet… one day a faerie shrew came along and trapped me into this mirror. I have been trapped here since that day!" I rolled my eyes. A predictable story. Unfortunate, but predictable.

"I suppose that you can also tell me the future?" It was meant to be a joke. But she beamed at me.

"In fact… I can! Apparently that was a side effect of the spell. A rather amusing one, if I do say so myself. I've learned so many naughty things," she tittered to herself, and I sighed. Only I would have the bad luck to get an airhead trapped into my mirror. "But any who… perhaps you would like to see if there are any dashing young men in your future?" She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, and I groaned.

"No." I really didn't want to find out what should happen in the future. I began to leave the room. Her voice followed me, and I stopped.

"Oh but it would be so much fun!" She pouted at me and the shook her head sassily. "Well, I'm curious. I'm going to look." I began to shout at her not to, but her face faded from the mirror, and a series of images began to pop up on its surface. It was like watching a bad movie trailer.

In this, I was wearing a simpler dress, and I was running down a darkened hallway. At the very end there was a pool of water, and I stopped to sit by it. I could tell by the way I looked that I was thinking about something, and was clearly very upset. Yet the mirror's focus shifted from me to the water. Creatures rose out of it. Things that were so shrunken that they barely looked like women. They each had a set of wicked teeth, and their faces were so pale that you could see through them to the bones. One grabbed my ankle, and began to tug. I was clearly surprised, and let out a silent scream. The others picked up on that cue, and I was nearly halfway in the water when –

The image faded, and Marie reappeared in her mirror. "Oh… oh my dear… I'm so sorry." I blinked, and left the room. I was in shock. Had I just seen the scene of my death? I shuddered. God. Why? "Just forget it dear!" Marie called after me. "I'm sure that it won't actually happen. My visions aren't always accurate!"

"Please, just be quiet. I'm going to bed." I didn't hear anything else from Marie, and I hoped that she had left the mirror. Seating myself on the bed, I tried to shake away the horrifying scene that had just played out in front of me. It wouldn't happen. I wouldn't die. Marie said that her visions weren't always accurate.

I laid myself down, and thought about anything other than the vision. I comforted myself with the best memories I could stir up from my past. Even if it hurt me to know that I would never be able to make new ones with these people, they provided me with a slight bit of comfort.


	10. Thistle

**So, seriously, I'm sorry for keeping you all waiting on this! My computer died, and with it left my tenth chapter. So, I'm glad I was able to get this to you after so long. ^^'**

**In other news, CHAPTER 10! I'm glad that you're all still reading, and I really like writing this. Hopefully I'll get more done now that I've got a computer again.  
**

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I don't know how I managed to, but I fell asleep. Today had been exhausting, yes, but I was still haunted by the scene I had watched. Thankfully with the night came nothing by normal nonsensical dreams. I won't bore you to death with the details. It only felt like a short while later that a voice was calling me from my sleep.

"Lady! Lady Grace! Wake up!" Feeling something tickling my nose, I waved at whatever it was. I think my hand made contact with something… I really couldn't be sure. "Hey! Wake up!" The voice rose in pitch. I responded by groaning.

"Five more minutes, Mom." Rolling over, I think I heard a growl of annoyance.

"I am not your mother. Now wake up!" Something pricked my butt, and I jumped out of bed.

"Ow! What the heck was that for?" I identified the source of my annoyance as Winny. She held a shiny needle, and looked extremely pleased with herself.

"You called me your mother," she stated simply. "I was offended. That, and you wouldn't wake up. Lazy bones." I shook my head in annoyance. What had I done to get the peskiest faerie in the place as my maid?

"Okay, I'm up. So what did you want?"

Grinning, Whinny settled down on the desk. "I wanted you to stop sleeping in that gown, for starters. It'll ruin it. If you need to sleep, get one of the many night gowns." She motioned towards the wardrobe that sat in the corner. I rolled my eyes. That wasn't the only reason. "But my true purpose is to wake you up. You're to come with me, and start working with Mama Thistle. Order of the King."

I ran a hand through my hair, and groaned. "Alright then." I was all too mindful of the King's threats. It's not like it was going to kill me to make them see that I was really quite useless. At least then I might have a chance of being freed… But I doubted that even if I were declared perfectly magic-less, that they'd just let me waltz out of here. I'd learned that things weren't that simple here.

"Now…" Whinny zoomed over the wardrobe. "What shall we dress you in?" She pulled out the sleeve of a dress, and nodded. "This would be nice. I think –"

"I think I shall dress myself. Feel free to wait outside, but I think I can manage to pick a dress to wear. I'm not a child." Winny sighed, and I could tell that she thought that matter was up to debate.

As soon as she was outside, I heard Marie cry out from the mirror, "Wear the gold-ish dress. It would be better for the training session ahead of you." I found the dress she spoke of quickly, and frowned at it. What do to… should I listen to the future-seeing mirror, or my own fashion sense? I realized that to do the former would be the best idea, and changed into the dress promptly.

As a joke, I called back to Marie, "Any tips on hairstyle?"

"A braid!" I smacked myself. Of course she would have an answer. With a shrug, I quickly did up my own braid. I even found a hair ribbon with which to hold it there. Stepping outside of the room, I crossed my arms.

"Alright, Winny, where to?" I mentally reminded myself that on this journey, I needed to learn where my room was. The last thing I wanted was to give an excuse to the princes to escort me everywhere. That would have simply been insufferable.

Without a word, Winny nodded and flew through the halls. Even though she kept moving at a brisk pace, I tried to remember which halls went where, and little things that might help me get back. So many halls… It was infuriating. Each hall looked the same as the next, and I wondered how it was people learned to get around this place.

We finally arrived at the doors, and Winny smiled at me. Something in that smile made me worry… perhaps it was just the malicious glint in her eyes. "We're here. Head on inside. Mama Thistle should be waiting for you." I glanced at her as she flew away, and wondered what it was merited that evil grin.

I placed my hand on the door to push it, and paused. Why did I have to do this, really? Furthermore, I felt quite unnerved by Winny. It was a tiny little smile, but it had done enough to spook me a little. All I knew about this Mama Thistle woman was that she was quite unattractive and had screwed my mother over. Not exactly a recipe for trust right there.

"Are you coming in, or are you just going to stand out there?" A gruff, yet rich voice with a heavy Russian accent called out to me. Was that her? My eyes widened. Who would have thought that she would have a voice as cool as that? "Don't keep me waiting!" I stiffened at that. Bossy woman. Sighing, I stepped into the room.

Mama Thistle sat there at the end of the room, seated on some steps at the end. I glanced around at the space. It reminded me of a dance studio – mirrors lined the walls, and the floor was perfectly smooth… the only thing that was missing was the balance bar. That, and most rooms didn't have a little stage at the end of them. I frowned. What the hell would you use a room like this for?

I heard a _tsk_, and my attention returned to the elderly woman. "You are too easily distracted. And you ask too many questions." Her tone was scornful, and I glared at her as she slowly worked her way out of the chair. Opening my mouth, I was quite prepared to retort with something, but she cut me off with a brisk 'zip it' motion in the air. I stopped, and groaned. "If I'm to work with you, you're going to have to learn some manners. Did your mother never teach you to respect your elders?"

That was a low blow, bringing up my mother, but it cowed me properly. I rubbed my arm, and glanced away from her. Was she always so blunt? Was I really going to have to work with this woman? The idea was becoming less savory by the minute.

Steadily, she worked her way to me. I noted that she loped along, and that her face seemed to be set in a determined expression. As soon as she reached me, she tilted her head, and walked around me at the same pace. The whole thing was painful for me, and I wished there was a way to make this go faster. That, and the little 'Hms' and 'Ahs' she made whilst walking around me were starting to make me self conscious.

Suddenly, she spoke. "A dancer, no?" My eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Yes," I said, feeling a little surprised that she could guess that.

She gave a little lopsided grin. "I could tell. You have the figure and easy movement of a dancer." Figure, maybe, but I was always tripping over my own feet. People always laugh that I trip more walking around than I do when performing a complex ballet. Poking me once in the side, I squawked in surprise, and leapt away from her. "Mmmm. I believe we'll use that as your outlet." Nodding once, she hobbled back to her spot on the steps.

"What do you mean, 'my outlet'?" I couldn't help but to be a little confused by her statement. She made you want to be curious. But little cryptic statements always got on my nerves.

She tilted her head, and I saw her eyes narrow. "You really don't know anything. Lanora knows better than to leave potential like this untamed." Okay, seriously? I think she just ignored my question entirely.

Crossing my arms, I glared at her. "My god! Cut it the crap, and tell me something I can understand! Hell, you could have a better conversation on your own."

Shaking her head, Thistle gave me a sharp look. I froze. That woman could glare. Her voice ringing with authority, she said, "You lack respect." Oh god, she was terrifying. "I don't think that you have the control for this. The power has gone untapped for so long... It would probably be better to forget it. Yet I am bound to obey his majesty, and will teach you – will you or nil you. Now settle down, and I shall explain things in good time."

I blinked, feeling a little shell shocked. What had that been? "Sit down," she commanded gruffly. I quickly sat on the ground. I'd avoid her ire any day. Rubbing the bridge of her nose in annoyance, she grimaced. "We're going to have to start from the beginning."

"Which means?" I couldn't help but to ask the question. The way she said 'the beginning' was ominous. How much did I need to learn, exactly?


	11. Boom!

**So I got art from a friend, and it is gorgeous. I mean, I really love it. **

**Enough to dedicate this entire chapter to her, and to give everyone the link, because I seriously think that this art is amazing, and I squeal childishly every time I see it. Somewhat pathetic, but hey. Sue me. **

**Or... not. Because this site hates my links. *glare* I'll attempt to post it in the comments, but if all else fails you'll just have to take my word for this one...  
**

* * *

"Again."

I hated that word. How many times had a heard it now? A thousand or more. For the past few hours, I had been twirling about this freaking plant, trying to get it to grow.

"This is elementary magic," Mama Thistle keeps reminding me. "Find your magic, channel it in your dance, and focus it on the plant." The woman had shown me a series of movements – all quite bland if you asked me – and told me to perform them whilst thinking of all of those things. Really, I wasn't too thrilled about the activity to begin with. But I went along with things in a vain attempt to prove how useless I actually was.

That hadn't happened yet, and I was getting tired of it. The movements were pointless now, and it became more futile with every attempt. I had learned a few things about Thistle. I had learned that as she got more annoyed, her Russian accent became thicker, and sometimes she lapsed into the native language. It was really wild, and I had to wonder what it was she was saying. Despite how peeved I was, it was amusing to listen to her mutter in Russian.

This hell had started with a lecture – of all the things it could have been. I believe that began with the reasoning behind the 'magical outlet'. Some people could just read a few words, and poof! Magic. Others expressed it through potions or through pentacles. Many, though, could not channel magic through such conventional means. They expressed it through a skill or a talent. Apparently this applied to Warren – he expressed magic through his inventions. Supposedly, I was supposed to do this through my dance… So far this had been a complete failure.

The second half of the lecture had been about how – in order to get the basics of magic – one had to master the four elements. I'll admit, I started to get distracted here. She said something about how mastering the elements was a way of telling your magic who's boss. 'Assertion of dominance' was the exact words. Then she might have said something about mastering things in order of earth, water, wind, fire. I couldn't be sure that wind didn't come before water, but hey. I wasn't paying complete attention, so sue me.

Anyhow, so with this said, she'd conjured up (or however the hell you get a potted plant to come out of nowhere) this seedling, and told me to make it grow. Movements in mind, I had pranced, focused, and cussed at this tree and nothing had happened. Friggin' tree.

Feeling like an incapable idiot, I was slowly getting more and more irritated. I was done. Actually, I had been done a few minutes ago. Now I was just fed up. Was the purpose of this exercise to humiliate me?

"Again," she repeated in a calm voice. With this, I spun around to face her. I was angry, I won't lie. I was tired of these people who took me from my life, and were forcing me to learn something that was clearly impossible.

Glaring, I screamed, "Screw you and your fucking magic!" Turning, I began to stomp out of the room. Even if I couldn't find my way back to my damn room, I wanted to be anywhere but here.

Suddenly, Mama Thistle flashed in front of the doors. That's the only way I could really describe how she got there. One moment she was on the stage behind me, and the next second, she seemed to flash into existence in front of the door. Goddamn magic.

Staring at me levelly, it bothered me how calm this woman was. Her posture showed no stress in it, and that made me wary. Yet I could see in the depths of those black and beady eyes that a fire of anger hid there. For moments, I was worried about my personal safety. Annoyance and anger washed over my momentary fear, and I merely glared back at her. I would not stand down now.

"You impetuous child," she started out, her words nearly complete nonsense to my ears through the thick Russian. "You will _sit down and stay here._" The words were laden with power. I could hear in the emphasis, and feel it in the force that I was suddenly met with.

What the hell? It was as if something were pushing against me, trying to force my muscles into a sitting position. Something, an instinct, told me that I could not allow her to control me so easily. How I was supposed to resist such a force, I did not know. A little voice in my head seemed to whisper yes; I had the stuff to do this.

This was a battle of wills, I thought. Like the scene at the very end of the Lord of the Dance, when Michael Flatly had to battle it out with the evil guy. They tap danced it to the end. (I always thought that was the coolest part of the movie. Mom had always been too busy drooling at a shirtless Mr. Flatly.)

At the thought, I think I began to shuffle my feet a little. Not huge movements, but just a little scuffling that barely counted as tap. Somewhere, I thought that this felt right, and began to tap with more vigor. (Not that tap was really my thing; I had taken a few workshops here and there. Ballet was my forte.)

Slowly, the power Mama Thistle had forced on me bent backwards, until there was a snap. The power snapped and crackled apart. At first, my opposing force just kept on going; I threw Mama Thistle through the door with it. Shock broke my concentration, and I abruptly stopped my passable tap. Blinking, I gaped at the mess that had been a door.

I… I had done that? Holy shit.

Somewhere between feeling concerned for the old woman, feeling pleased that she'd gotten what she'd deserved, and complete shock at this little mess, I leapt over the splintery remains. Crotchety and bossy old woman or not, my mother had raised me too well for me to leave an elder lying like that on the floor.

I found her heaving, and sprawled against the far wall… Apparently there had been a lot of force behind that throw. Grabbing one meaty arm, I helped bring her to her feet. As she stood, she began to laugh heartily. Gaping at her, I wondered if she remembered that bit about my tossing her against and through a door. Maybe she'd hit her head a little _too_ hard on the way out…

"A little pressure and you function just fine. You clearly aren't one for structure. So much like Lanora," she mumbled, grinning lopsidedly at me. Yep, she'd lost her mind.

Gesturing towards the mess, I tried to organize my baffled thoughts. Lamely, I said, "Wait, so you're not mad about being thrown through the door?" I won't lie, I was confused by this woman.

With another bark of laughter, Mama Thistle shook her head at me. "Much worse has happened to me before, girl. But I now know more about your magic. You are one of those who base your magic, first of all, on memories. Which will be tricky, you have no idea. Second, you derive the power of the magic on emotion. Another tricky thing. We are going to have a fun time cracking your magic." I wasn't quite so sure about that as she was.

Standing there awkwardly, I hadn't the slightest idea as to what to say to all that information. Emotion and memories. Funzies. Not to mention working magic through dance… Perhaps I was over thinking this, but suppose I wanted to curse someone. Would that mean that I would have to twirl around angrily to get the curse right? I shook my head. This was really ridiculous.

It took me a few seconds to notice that Mama Thistle was still talking. Not to me, however. It was more that she was mumbling to herself. "Of course, I really think that over time she might be able to just focus her will on something… naturally it won't be as powerful as the dance, but much more applicable. Intriguing, certainly." … Perhaps she was just crazy, and the door hadn't done any more damage.

Regardless of which, I didn't like her talking about me as if I weren't here. "I'm right here, you know." I crossed my arms, and gave her an annoyed glance. Her eyes stared at up at me, and narrowed.

"Yes. Well, I'm done today. No more. I need to think." She began to hobble away, and paused. "Oh, and I believe you need someone to escort you to your room, no?" I began to reply that, no, I could manage quite well on my own, when she seemed to twirl a finger in the air. I could easily guess that one of the three people who I disliked most on this planet would appear in a matter of seconds.

What a shocker; it was Arion.

Fuck. My. Life. Right now, and do it quickly. I didn't want to be there.

"Arion." Mama Thistle's voice caught his attention, and he spun around to look at her. Thank god, those steely eyes were no longer on me. "Take her back to her room, and be civil about it." I rolled my eyes. Like that was possible.

To my surprise, he nodded to her shortly. "Yes ma'am." Dude, did he just listen to her! I guess I was shocked. No, really shocked. He seemed like the sort who would just go his own way, and here he was listening to this Mama Thistle. Clearly, she was a force to be reckoned with.

"Come along, Lady." He gestured to me, and did not make a move to take my arm. This was a surprising take on his over-assertive self. Of course, he seemed particularly resigned to something. Like he was over tired. Humph. Perhaps that stick up his ass had kept him from sleeping well last night, I thought.

There was cold silence between us. I kept my distance, and he ignored me. Clearly, he was in stony mode, which I did not mind. I had nothing to say to him, and was made very uneasy by his presence.

Thankfully, he walked quickly. We found my room in good time, and I excitedly rushed inside. After this morning, I was excited to find solace in the large and comfortable bed. One good thing about the room where I was held captive was that bed, which was darned comfy.

However, before I could escape from the oppressing presence that was Arion, he caught my upper arm. Shit. Here it came, the moment I thought I would escape. I flinched involuntarily, and then glared up at him. He would not boss me around, thanks.

"Let go," I ordered tightly, jerking my arm in a lame attempt to break free. Naturally, he held on to my arm with ease. Seriously, I had one arm free, and the thought of punching him and breaking that perfect nose sounded so tempting…

Rolling his eyes at me, he sighed as if disappointed. "Honestly, resorting so quickly to anger and violence. Savage." He was taunting me! After all the hell he put me through, he was taunting me. "I have an invitation from the King –"

I had swung before he had started talking, because I was fed up with his bullshit. Perhaps I should have waited on that punch, because he was so focused on his invitation I had a straight shot to his nose…

He reeled away from me, and I felt horrendously proud of myself. A clean, straight punch. Score one for Grace! I nearly started a victory dance, but he collected himself from the other side of the hallway. The pretty shirt he was wearing was dotted with blood, and I had to watch as he coolly cracked his nose back into place. He stood still for a few moments, holding his nose. All the while, his gray eyes were set on me. I won't lie, it was unsettling being under his gaze, which was really intense.

The pause seemed to end, as he calmly wiped away the last of the blood with a tissue he pulled out of his pocket. "You broke my nose," he observed calmly. I nearly shouted that if I had broken his nose, he wouldn't be dabbing at it right now but then I remembered his pause. Magic. He just needed to focus, and the magic came to him. Ugh. Wonderful.

I had readied myself for an angry response, which would have been satisfying, because I would have let him have it, but he just stood there, dabbing his nose. I was baffled for a second time that day. Glancing at me, he seemed to chuckle. "Oh no, I wouldn't disobey Mama Thistle. I learned that years ago. Trust me. You have nothing to fear until you come outside again."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh good, so I step outside this door, and you'll get back at me? Way to make me want to leave my room."

He glared at me, and I knew that perhaps I shouldn't push these boundaries anymore. He'd proven that the rule that a guy shouldn't hit a girl didn't matter to him. I always shoot my mouth off. "Anyhow," he continued, his voice dripping with steel. The easy humor from moments ago had left it in an instant. "My father says that you will be attending dinner, and you shall be pairing with my brother's and I for the dance afterwords."

I opened my mouth to say like hell I would, and Arion held up a finger. "Think before you speak, Grace. I only gave you the briefest taste of the backlash of the contract. My father is not so lenient." I swallowed the words and my pride. Even though I did not enjoy bowing to my captor's will, I enjoyed that pain less. I nodded curtly.

"Fine. Goodbye." I turned to leave, and just as I stepped into my room, I heard Arion call after me.

"Do not think that because of my immense dislike for you that I will give up my right to the throne, Grace. All it will take is a bit of time, and I shall have you."

Turning, I smirked coyly. "Go to hell, sir." With that, I slammed my door shut to the sound of his maddening laugh.


	12. Old Books

The rest of the afternoon – or what I assumed was afternoon, if it was even afternoon at all – was uneventful. Besides my fretfulness over not knowing what time of day it was, I spent most of that time trying to figure out what to do.

Let's be frank; they hadn't created this room keeping in mind that I was _not_ content to sit quietly on the bed and let them mess with me later.

I was ready to climb up the walls if I didn't find something to do. Marie, noticing my unrest, tried to talk to me, but her conversation topics seemed to be nothing but the latest gossip of the faerie court. Although hearing another voice in the room was a comfort, it's hard to appreciate gossip when you have no concept of who any of the people are.

Debating tearing my hair out, I finally decided to screw the safety of my room. I was bored, and they had left me to my own devices. Whether or not Arion or any of his other brothers were waiting outside that door didn't matter. I was bored out of my freaking mind.

Growling a little in annoyance, I strolled into the bathroom. "Hey, Marie? Any interesting places in the palace? Places where there is a possibility of low prince traffic?"

Marie cut short whatever she was babbling about, and stopped to thing. "Low prince traffic?" she asked. I closed my eyes, and willed patience. She was imprisoned in that mirror a long time ago. I could make exceptions for her lack of comprehension.

"Anywhere that the princes wouldn't be." That was, quite frankly, my biggest requirement. As long as I was alone and there was little to no possibility of the king's sons stumbling upon me. I wanted a space to dance and or think.

"Mmmm," Marie said. I could see her head tip upward thoughtfully. This could be interesting. "The library, probably. No one but Warren frequents there, and even then the lad is usually busy with his inventing. Which really does nothing for gossip. He's the most boring of the lot." I quickly ignored the last part of her statement. This mirror should be in a room with someone who actually _cares_.

I nearly headed out the door before pausing. I didn't have a clue as to where I was going. For a moment I debated shrugging my shoulders and getting lost… but I didn't know what sort of people I might run into.

"You'll want to take a left, walk past four hallways until you reach a portrait of a grinning nymph. At which point, turn right, take a left, and then the first large double doors engraved with gold are the ones you want." Perfect timing, and I had just been about to call back. Maybe the magical seer mirror wasn't _so_ bad.

I hurried through those halls. A library might be cool, or it might just be a room filled with musty books. All the same, it would mean no princes. I grinned at the thought. Following Marie's directions, I was soon faced with the gigantic portrait. It was a woman. With fins and those black eyes. Did they all have those endlessly black eyes?

That portrait felt wrong. You know how your skin crawls and you feel a tingle up your back? That was what I felt. The woman was beautiful. Her body was formed perfectly, and a long dark curtain of hair graced her – naked? – figure. She looked human, but the eyes and that smile. I wanted to hide from that smile. It said 'I am smarter and deadlier than you are. You're screwed.' Rubbing my arms, I took the right hastily.

The library was hard to miss. When Marie had said 'large double doors' she had meant _large double doors_. They were imposing, dark and quite a statement. I slowly opened a door, and scanned the room quickly.

I decided quickly that it was vacant, and slipped inside. Sighing, I took in the smell of the new room. Have you ever smelled old books? They have a musty odor. This room was that smell, and it made me smile.

One of the things that had been left of my father was his old books. They had been stuffed away in a cardboard box, and when I was thirteen, I found them in the basement. I remembered that the box had hastily scribbled Markus on the side of it. I remember that I had sat down that day, and thumbed through them. They were classics – Shakespeare, Poe, Conan Doyle – and I didn't actually read any of them. I do remember smelling them, though, and loving the aged smell.

I brushed off the memory hastily. No need for me to get tied up in memories which will only depress me.

I began to wander through the oodles of bookshelves. You know that wonderful scene during Beauty and the Beast when the Beast gives Belle the library? This library had the same number of books, but with less of the prim neatness. Little stacks of old books lay heaped on the floor near shelves, and I could see books scattered all over the tables that were on the far left side of the room.

I mused with the idea that someone could get lost in here. Not that I would mind. I would rather be lost in a sea of leathery tomes than dancing with a prince. I trailed my finger along the bindings of the books, and absently read the titles. I could hardly recognize any of it. There were titles in languages that my little high school education in French could hardly prepare me for.

Suddenly I heard a few thumps from behind me, and I jumped. I swear, my heart jumped into my throat, and I leapt at least a few inches into the air. 'And then we heard a thump. How that thump made us jump.' Oh good. And a _Cat in the Hat_ reference to boot.

Spinning around, my chest heaving in fear, I found myself looking at a disheveled woman. She looked familiar… until I realized that she was the nymph from that creepy portrait. I looked at her, and didn't see that fierce beauty. In fact, I saw a disheveled woman who now had a confused look plastered on her face. If it weren't for the familiar face shape, hair, and skin color I wouldn't have identified her.

"It fell," she stated mournfully, staring at a newly created mess of books. I blinked. Well, yeah, lady. An awkward silence hung in the air. However, this seemed to bother only me.

Suddenly she glanced up, and I was looking into eyes that seemed to gaze at the world in a baffeled manner. Perhaps she hadn't been the nymph in the painting. She didn't have the proper air of… I dunno, menace? While I considered this, she moved towards me quickly, and hand both of my arms in her grip. I was shocked, and I was surprised that I could feel the chill of her fingers through my sleeves.

"You," she said, wonderingly. "You're Lanora's. I know your mother. She was… my lady…" She drifted off thoughtfully, and just remained still. This was weird. Really, really weird. Her eyes wandered away from my face, and she began to mutter.

"So… you knew my mom?" I asked, after a few minutes of absolute silence. Her eyes snapped back to my face.

"Yes," she smiled. It was a friendly smile, despite the oddity of the situation. "Yes, she was my favorite. I wish she had met happiness… but poor, poor Lanora. Met a human, fell in love. Silly girl." She shook her head, and _tsk_ed like a disappointed mother. Her hand suddenly reached up to stoke my cheek. Jesus, her hands were freezing. Did she put her hands in ice? "I will make her happy, though. You will marry one of my sons, and she will be able to come back without disgrace."

My eyes widened. Holy shit. I had thought the Queen was dead but… _You will marry one of my sons_… There was no way to deny what that meant. I was staring at the batshit crazy Queen of the Faeries, who was marrying me off because she wanted my mother to come back to court.

Hearing the door open, I glanced towards the sound. Anything to alleviate the weirdness of this whole scene. I glanced back at her, and noticed her smile slightly, and her eyes gained the light that they had had in the painting. "Come back to see me," she urged quietly, "I want to know you. I want to know Lanora's child." Biting my lip dubiously, I nodded. She was a relatively harmless crazy, and she seemed to fluctuate between crazy and somewhat stable often enough that talking to her might actually be enjoyable.

Grinning to me, she disappeared around the aisle's corner. I blinked. What the hell had that been? One oppressive king, a crazy queen, and three annoying princes equaled one fucked up, painfully annoying royal family. Why me? I sighed loudly, and heard footsteps heading over to the aisle I was in.

A head popped around the corner, and there was Warren. My 'friend'. I didn't know him, and I honestly didn't know why we were on grounds of peace. One 'friend' is better than being alone, right? Maybe if I keep telling myself that, it will become true. Mentally rolling my eyes, I met Warren's puzzled expression.

"Did a tornado come through here, or what?" I stared at the mess the Queen had left and shrugged. He quickly walked towards the books, and began to place them onto the shelf.

"Nothing much, your mother just knocked down a few books." I saw him freeze, and the corners of his mouth turned down.

He turned to stare at me, his face stony and I could have sworn that it was also riddled with grief and anger. "That was a low blow. I merely asked a question. Now I realize that you do not like me or my brothers, but at least honor a dead Queen."

I gaped attractively, and make a few squawks which were formulations of failed sentences. I looked the side, feeling ashamed. "I'm sorry. I just assumed that the woman I saw was your mother…" I could see him thinking about accepting my apology.

"It's fine. Who was this woman you ran into?" I could tell that he didn't entirely mean all of those words, but hey. I had apologized, which is more than I would give any of the others. Besides, I knew how much it hurt to have old grievances woken up by idiots. I had been wrong, and he'd deserved that apology.

"She – erm – didn't you see her when she ran into the other aisle?" He shook his head, and I frowned. I had seen her. I had _felt_ her. She had touched me for goodness sakes! "Ah, nevermind. I'm just being crazy." I shook my heads. Geez, this captivity was fucking with my head majorly.

Feeling unbelievably stupid, I sighed. "Mmmm," Warren responded, his brow furrowing. "So I heard you had your first lesson with the dragon lady. How'd it go?" It took me about thirty seconds to catch on to what he was saying. Dragon lady… was that what they called Mama Thistle? How fitting.

"I threw her through a door," I stated bluntly. He laughed heartily.

"Finally, someone who tossed _her _into a wall. My first lesson, I –" He was cut off by Winny, who came zooming into the room.

Looking very displeased, she glared pointedly at me and squeaked, "Lady Grace, you need to get ready for the ball tonight." I sighed. Oh goody. Dinner and dancing. Hooray, yippee, yadda, yadda, yadda. "C'mon!" Grabbing a piece of my hair, she tugged at it like someone would tug at the leash of a naughty dog. I yelped, and followed her out.

"See you at dinner!" Warren called after me. Humph. Yeah, woohoo. Even if I got along with the guy twenty billion times better than Arion, I couldn't stand the idea of playing their game. My thoughts were disturbed by Winny scolding me for wandering off. I ignored her more than 70% of the time.


	13. Damn Ball Gowns

I was dragged into my room, and was treated like a naughty little girl who had run off for no particular reason. I tuned Winny out. For a creature that was so small, she could managed to screech surprisingly well, though, so that was quite a task.

After a while, she simmered down. Perhaps it was the fact that she was squeezing me into ball gown, and killing me with the corseted bodice. Winny tightened it a little more, and I sucked in a gasp of air. "You're fat. The other ladies of court are generally too small for this dress." I scowled at her. I was quite comfortable with my weight. In fact, some people told me that I was too skinny.

"Thanks," I muttered, trying to work on breathing properly. Corsets really are hellish contraptions. I felt as though my ribs could crack under the pressure.

I flicked one of the short strings of gold beads on the front of this gown I now wore. They lined the first part of the sleeves, and went down in a v-shape down the front of the gown. From those gold beads, the sleeves poofed out in a mauve satiny fabric, and ended the poof at my sleeves in a loose lacy cuff. The corset and gown were mauve brocade, and the slit in the middle revealed a deeper mauve. Really, the colors were gorgeous. The only problem I had was the petticoats and the fact that the lace made my arms itch.

I twirled once, and I noticed Winny roll her eyes and groaned. She could deal with it. I felt like a princess. The little girl in me squealed in delight because of the dress. However the physical pain from wearing it wasn't part of the fantasy that she'd had. Taking another deep breath, I stopped twirling. I placed a hand on my stomach, and sucked in air. Dinner would be fun; talking and dancing with princes, and trying not to pass out. Lucky me.

Winny took this opportunity to snatch up my hair. I was surprised that she could hold my hair like she did, despite the fact that her hands were quite small. In seemingly no time at all, she had my hair up in a neat bun, and was placing a choker with little drop shaped stones along the edge. It drove me crazy, and I knew that I was going to fiddle with it all night.

The pixie flew backwards, and stared at me critically. "Stand still, and _don't tug at the choker!_" she exclaimed in annoyance. I stopped moving, but kept pulling at the annoying accessory. Rolling her eyes in annoyance, she said, "Take it off. You can't wear it if you can't stand it." Grinning because of the small victory, I unclasped the chain on the back, and laid it down on the desk near the mirror.

I caught a glimpse of myself. The faerie princess look suited me well, I guess. I will admit; it was weird seeing my hair pulled back into that perfect bun. My mother had thought it unachievable for my first ballet recital. Yet here it was.

Finally I allowed myself to stand still. I guess I could do that for Winny. I watched her consider me for a few moments before she nodded. "You're good enough. At the very least the court will not laugh at you." Could that be classified as a compliment? Rolling my eyes, I walked away from her.

"Lovely work, Winny!" I heard Marie call. The faerie shook her head in annoyance, and muttered something along the lines of, "You always say that."

I sat down on the bed, and the dress puffed out. It was like sitting in the middle of a bunch of pillows. How the hell was I supposed to sit in this? Growling in annoyance, I cursed the fact that pretty dresses always had something impossibly annoying about them. While I sat there, I felt something against my feet. Startled, I pulled them up and sat crisscross.

"It's me, you idiot! Put your feet back down here. You can't go dancing barefoot!" I glared down at her. Why the hell not? That sounded like just my cup of tea.

"You could have warned me," I stated, as I warily lowered my feet. Shaking her head in annoyance, she slipped on the shoes, which I realized were a, gorgeous b, glass and c, high heeled. How predictably cliché. Like everything in this castle! What was next, a faerie cursing me to sleep for a hundred years if I pricked myself on a spinning wheel? Geez.

With the shoes on, Winny commanded me to stand. "Are you dumb? They're glass. Even though I'm not the heaviest person out there, I'll crush them."

"Just do it, would you? I want to make sure the heels work with the dress." I rolled my eyes. If they shattered, I'd get out of the ball. I stood, expecting to hear cracking and feel sudden pain on the bottom of my feet. It didn't happen. Oh hell. Magic shoes to. "Those will help you. They're supposed to bring good luck. It did for some faerie servant, that Ella person. She got a prince." I froze. Wait, Ella. Like _Cinder_Ella? Weird.

One problem with my wearing he shoes; I didn't want good luck. I didn't want a prince. I opened my mouth to tell Winny to take the shoes off when I heard a knock on the door. My heart froze. Let the games begin. I glared down at the shoes. Bring good luck my ass.

"That would be for you." Raising an eyebrow, she gestured for me to go get the door.

"Thanks for all the help," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. I stood at the door, and knew that one of three faces would be waiting outside. I took a deep breath. Into the rabbit hole we go, I thought, and opened the door.

The other prince – Tiernan? – stood there. Thank god it wasn't Arion. He had a confident smile on his face, and a pink rose in his hand. "M'lady. A pleasure to see you. A gift," he extended the rose. I glared at the flower. Roses had gotten me into this mess. I wasn't going to accept another one.

"I'll pass, thanks." He stared down at the flower, and shrugged before tossing it behind him.

"Indeed. Well," he held out his arm expectantly. Slowly, I took it. I wanted to roll my eyes. "Let us head off." He flashed me a wide smile. Want to charm with your looks, bucko? Nice try. You're failing miserably. Leading me through the halls, he began to speak about what he liked to do. I think it consisted of fighting, hunting and dancing. Honestly, someone had shipped me a stereotype prince to match my stereotype shoes.

Every now and then he would check back in with me, and I would nod or absent mindedly say how interesting or thank you. I tuned him out otherwise. He had nothing to say, and had proven to know little else other than – woah!

Suddenly, I was swept off my feet and in his arms. It was a ridiculous scene with the dress and all, and I glared at him. "What are you doing?" I demanded in annoyance.

"You were about to stumble over a mess. It would be a pity for you to ruin your looks. May I say you are quite beautiful?" I groaned. Oh no. A mess. What a shame I missed it.

I struggled to get out of the princess carry, and failed. Damn this dress and his strength. He was stronger than his brother. "Would you put me down? I can handle myself."

"What's the matter?" He asked, clearly annoyed, after a few steps. "Most women don't mind this. They are charmed by my protectiveness."

"I'm not a dainty wallflower! Now let me down, mess be damned." He shrugged.

"I swept you over the issue anyhow." He placed me on the ground, and I glanced back. There was a man lying there on the floor. He was barely breathing. Was this the 'mess'? It made me furious that he would refer to a human in distress as such.

"We can't leave him here!" I cried out, as Tiernan began to walk away. He glanced back at the man, and shrugged in a disinterested manner.

"He is not our concern." I was dragged away – almost literally – from that person.

I glared at Tiernan. "You cold-hearted ass," I muttered. He ignored me. Maybe he wasn't all muscles for brains. He had decided to ignore that man with chilling clarity. However, I brushed it off quickly when he began babbling about some fight or another.

We arrived moments later, and I was lead to a long golden table at the head of the room. Then other tables were set in rows. Everyone was garbed in large gowns and extravagant clothing. Sitting in the center of the table was Oberon. He had a frown plastered on his face, and seemed to loom above the crowd.

As courteously as possible, Tiernan lead me to my seat. It was dead silent, and eyes trailed the pair of us. Yes, everyone look at the weird half-human freak that Oberon is going to marry off to one of his sons, I thought, disgusted with this ordeal.

Tiernan pulled out a chair I assumed was mine, and I stepped before it. Like a proper gentleman, he slid the chair underneath me. I sighed. What a well-bred prince. I noticed quickly that Arion was to my left, and Warren was to my right which meant… yes. Tiernan sat down in front of me. Princes, princes, all around. Oh boy. Wouldn't there be an easier way to punish me?

With the two of us settled down, Oberon stood. "Now that our guest has arrived, let the feast begin!" His voice boomed in the room, and little creatures began to carry in plate upon plate of food. The room erupted with noise, as people began to talk.

Well, I thought, ready or not, here they come.


	14. The Volta

**So... I feel the need to blab about this chapter. Because, I want to a) apologize and then b) spazz. I want to apologize for not writing for such a LONG time, because I have been running around like crazy and have recently finished up my school show, Beauty and the Beast. This has been on my mind for a while...**

**The thing I want to spazz about is the fact that this chapter gave me an excuse to look at pretty historical movies so I could find the right dance! ... And you'll know better what I mean when you finally read this thing, so enjoy! 8D**

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The creatures looked like twisted versions of the house elves in Harry Potter. Honestly, they would have been terrifying. However their backs bowed with the weight of the food they carried. I scowled at the sight. What a cruel thing to do. These people were like bullies, weren't they? Pushing around humans and the weakest of their kind, just like a bully would pick on the short kid with glasses. If there is one thing I can't stand, it's a bully. I glared a little at the King.

The parade of platters reached our table first. We did not the select the food; it floated itself from the trays and on to our plates. I detested the lack of choice. I glanced around, and noted that others were completely unfazed by this. 'Lazy bums,' I thought. My plate full, I prepared to dig in. When you've eaten little to nothing for the past few hours, you think little of decorum. However, I noted that no one else had even moved for their utensils.

I noticed that they were paying great attention to the King, and that Arion had risen his eyebrows when I had picked up my fork. I blinked at him, and he mouthed, 'We wait for the King to eat first.' Sighing dismally, I placed my fork back on the napkin. Damn.

I watched the man like a hawk, and he took his time to get to that food. Taking a few sips from his huge goblet, he settled into his chair, and took the time to skewer a piece of fruit. Taking his own sweet time, he put it in his mouth and chewed luxuriously. Glancing at Arion sharply, he made a sign for him having to swallow. '_Goddammit_,' I thought, 'How long does it take to eat one slice of fruit?' Finally he swallowed, and grinned benevolently at the crowd. Faeries began to attack their plates.

Excitedly, I whipped the napkin into my lap and gripped my fork. I noted – to my great excitement – that walnuts and pomegranate seeds dotted the food. Two of my favorites. The meal alone would perhaps be the best thing to happen to me since I arrived. I noted, curiously, that no meat was on these plates. Only fruits, vegetables, and other such things. Wondering why briefly, I brushed the thought away as I scooped up a delectable looking pear slice.

And paused just as it was about to go in my mouth.

Arion was watching my eating very intently. Much too intently for comfort. I glared at him, and then noticed his brothers were watching me just as closely. "What?" I demanded, looking at them suspiciously.

Suddenly I remembered something about Faerie food that I had read over and over. Don't eat it, because a human will become trapped in faerieland forever. Or something bad will happen. Regardless of which, Faerie food was a big nono. I stared mournfully at the pear, and felt my mouth water. However, I plunked it down on the plate. If it diminished my chances of escape, I would have no part in it.

"Don't think I don't know what you're thinking." I said, jabbing at finger at all the three of them. "I know that humans shouldn't eat Faerie food." I crossed my arms, and tried to look aloof. Chuckling slightly, Arion grinned charmingly at me. I gave him a stern look that said 'Like that'll work, bucko.'

Warren sighed. "Lady, the food will not trap you here. To our knowledge, half-fae aren't effected by eating Faerie food." Tiernan scowled at him.

"Ruin our fun, eh? I would have loved to see how long it would have taken before she simply gave in and came to us begging for food." He grinned mischievously. I shuddered. There was something very unsettling about the other persona of Tiernan. It left me wanted to hide under the nearest table.

I glared at him, regained my momentarily lost composure. "Go die in a fire," I said sharply.

"Manners, woman, you speak to a prince," Tiernan responded. I could see the taunt in his eyes. Damn him, he was egging me on!

Before I could respond to him that for I all I could care he could be a busboy, Warren interrupted. "Brother, please don't start this. Lady Grace is our guest. Treat her as such." Tiernan shot him a glare, but stopped.

"Please, Lady, forgive my brothers. They forget themselves." Arion shot a warning glare at Tiernan. Like he had any right to tell them that they were being rude. What had he been to me my entire stay? His attention turned back on me, he gave me that same smile. I glared into it. The smile melting from his face, he said, "Eat. You offend our cook by neglecting the food." With that, he turned to his own plate.

I ate the food quietly. For the most part, the rest of the meal was quiet. It was better that way. I was too busy devouring my food to be much conversation. Feeling quite satisfied – the meal really had been spectacular, despite the rough start – I noticed that the tables were being moved away to form a large space in the middle of the room. Dancing time. Oh goody.

Hearing short clips of what I assumed was musicians warming up, I glanced around at the princes who surrounded me. Which one would I get to dance with first? Arion stood stiffly from his seat, and began to pull out my own chair. No way was I going to give him the satisfaction of making me go through such a helpless princess thing. I wormed my way out of my own chair – albeit a little clumsily.

A wave of titters met my standing, and I stared calmly out at the crowd. They would not get to me. Not tonight, and not ever. Looking into Arion's levelly – even though he was damningly taller than I was. They all were, but it was particularly aggravating with him.

"I'm going to take a wild guess and assume I'm dancing with you first," I said.

He smirked. "Indeed." Inwardly I groaned. I had hoped that maybe he'd just been standing up to help me get out of my chair.

"And what if I refuse to dance with you first?" I was challenging him in front of the entire faerie court, which had suddenly become uncomfortably silent. It was like those moments when you're talking to a friend in class and you say something incredibly awkward and the entire room becomes quiet right at that moment.

Battling my self-consciousness, I glared into his eyes. His eyebrow arched. "What gives you the idea that you have a choice?"

I knew that there could be consequences for my rebellion. But he challenged my right to choice, and I would not back down. "We always have the option to think."

"I suggest you think silently from now on!" Oberon boomed furiously from his throne. I gasped in surprise. He'd caught me off my guard. As our eyes locked, you could have heard a pin drop in that room. "You will dance with Arion. Remember the contract, girl." He held the rose up to me, and I narrowed my eyes.

"Fine." I crossed my arms, and looked warily at Arion.

Grinning at me, he made a courtly bow and offered his hand to me. "May I have the honor of this dance?" Eyes locked on to me. I did not budge.

"You will now politely say to the prince that you would be delighted to dance with him," the King commanded in a hushed voice. Swallowing back my anger and humiliation, I curtsied like they had taught us to in dance for a period dance.

"I would be _delighted_ to…" I made my voice sound as brainless as possible, "Dance with you, Prince Arion." I placed my hand into his with as much regality as I could muster. The room burst out into tiny sparks of chatter.

"Wonderful. Music!" As Oberon barked out instructions to the small band of musicians, Arion led me to the floor.

The prince said into my ear, "I trust you can handle whatever dance, m'lady?" I looked at him. His eyes glinted mischievously. What was he up to? "Or are you not equal to the task?" This was said quite loudly. He smirked at me.

Tilting my chin upwards, I declared, "Whatever dance, my lord. Hit me with your best shot."

Grinning, he said, "Good." He left me standing there as he turned to the musicians. Grandly he said, "A volta, my good musicians." There was much talk for this declaration. I scraped my mind. Volta… what was that one?

I froze. Shoot. I remembered a scene from the movie, Elizabeth, in which Queen Elizabeth and Robert dudley danced a dance that had looked like a challenge. In fact, most voltas involved that sort of sexual tension. Staring at him, I wished that I could take back my words. Damn me.

"Are you still sure?" The taunt was aimed at my pride, and I brushed aside my hesitance. 'Bring it on,' my eyes said. I wouldn't back down. Not now. Our eyes locked, he took a stance on the other side of the floor.

The music began with a single drum, beating out a sort of army march – much like the one in Elizabeth. He leapt slightly, and then bowed deeply, grinning up at me roguishly. I responded by tapping a little bit, and then curtsying.

With that, the music came to life, a proud song with the sort of beautiful Renaissance sensibility to the music. I matched Arion step for step as he strode towards me. Allowing the dance to pull me in, I circled around him. His arm slowly rose and I trailed my hand along it until I met his. Gripping his wrist, slowly we turned.

The tension was palpable, and I could feel the dance and the music sucking me in to its commanding tone. We stepped in to each other. It was as if I knew all the moves. Somehow, I knew that this was my magic. It was not going to allow me to lose to Arion. His arm moved around my waist, and I matched his move. We walked deliberately in a circle again.

Next thing I knew I was being lifted in the air. I allowed it, supporting myself on his shoulders. I would land but only briefly as he lifted me again. Oddly enough, I found myself delighting in the intensity of the few dance moves we made. As the song progressed, the music began more demanding, and our movements matched that. Faster we went, progressing more and more away from the steady beat of the volta. I pushed him, making him work for this one.

Finally, the music stopped. Our faces were mere inches from each other, each of us challenging the other to break away. Our breath was heavy, and we just stared. Arion grinned, and broke away from the moment. "Very good, m'lady. You win." He bowed to me, and walked off.

I had won that one. However, it wasn't satisfactory. In fact, I was stunned. He had just walked off. After that dance, he walked off like it was no big deal. Shaking myself, I brought my mind into focus. The moment of the dance was gone, and I would not think about how wild that had been.

The rest of the evening soared by. I would dance with Tiernan and Warren. Warren and I talked a little during the waltz that we did. Tiernan told me about all his dashing achievements. Again. I never saw Arion the rest of the night, thank goodness for that.

Once the ball was over, I insisted to walk back the room myself. I got there just fine. In a daze, I got out of the accursed gown and took a few deep breaths. I collapsed in to bed, and fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

I did not sleep well.


	15. Encounters

**WOW. Two chapters in rapid succession. o.O You're getting a lot this week. Of course, I've really been making myself write because I ought to do it more. It's therapeutic. But... you're not hear to read my psychotic babble at the beginning of chapters... so enjoy! 8D**

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I woke up with a start.

For some reason I was restless. My mind wouldn't settle. I was tired - the ball had been an exhausting ordeal - but I couldn't seem to calm my thoughts down. The dreams that came were a patchwork of events, and then they were glued together with nonsensical things that had never happened.

Running a hand through my hair, I breathed deep. 'In, out, in, out,' I told myself. 'You need to calm down.' Shaking myself, I rubbed my eyes. Well, I was awake, whatever time it was. I noted that the lights were darker than normal, which was saying something. This was probably meant to simulate night…

I was far from ready to go to sleep again.

Staring thoughtfully at the pillows, I stood. If it was dark, then people wouldn't mind me looking around the castle. Besides, it would reduce the chances of my running into any unwanted company.

Slipping into a comfortable dress which I found in the back, I left my room. I was careful to be as quiet as possible. I didn't want Marie waking up and tattling on me to anyone. She seemed like the sort who would do anything for that sort of attention.

Wandering through the castle in the dim lighting was creepy. My own house was somewhat intimidating in the dark. This was creepy on a different level. Shadows clung to the walls, and corridors seemed far more ominous.

Although slightly put off by this, I would not go back to my room. So I collected myself, and pushed onward. My eyes adjusted to the dark, and I noted, to my shock, that there were still some faeries hanging around near the halls. They clung to the shadows, and watched me as I walked by. My skin crawled. I straightened my back and told myself that I could handle it. I was, after all, the one who had stared down a prince tonight.

However, discomfort made me yearn for something somewhat familiar. I directed myself to where I believed the library was – based on my wanderings. I found myself at the portrait, and ran for the door. Once inside, I sighed at the comforting smell.

The library was dimly lit. I could see some vague lighting, but I could barely see beyond my own nose. The creepy factor was hardly better in here. Glancing around, I was glad to see a candle on the table. Before touching it, I paused. That's odd. A candle, in the middle of an empty room.

Who had used it? Squinting, I called softly, "Who else is here?" My voice sounded cowardly to me, and so when I repeated myself, I said it with a little more strength. No one responded. Shrugging it off, I picked up the nub of a candle. Perhaps someone had accidentally left it on.

Whatever it was, I was grateful for it. I wandered quickly through row after row. Finally, I had managed to find myself in a small alcove of the library. A table sat there, wood polished to perfection. On the wall was a painting of some kind; however I could not make out what it was of. Dust coated it.

Reaching forward, I rubbed gently at the painting. Sooner or later this dust would have to come off… and then I stopped suddenly. That was my mother. She was younger looking, but I could recognize this as her. She stood beaming at a woman – whom I identified as the queen by her cascades of black hair. They looked like they had a bond of deep understanding, she and the queen. It was strange for to see my mother looking like she belonged in this world…

"Lanora was always my most faithful companion," a voice chimed from behind me.

I spun around, seeing the queen. I breathed. She had scared me. The woman smiled at me benevolently, allowing me time to recover from my shock. "If she was so faithful, why did she leave?" I said it without thinking.

The queen's face darkened. "The wizard. Markus. She was enchanted by him. I tried to tell her that there were many good Faerie men that she could marry… Any could have been her choice if she just asked me… but no. She loved your father." She spat out the final words. Oooookay. Bitter Faerie queen. Time to stop that conversation.

Suddenly a thought struck me. "Wait, aren't you supposed to be dead? Either you're dead, or I'm really crazy."

I watched her face droop. "Yes. I guess I died…" Suddenly, she shook her head. Her face became resolute. "No. This is…" she stopped speaking. "I am forbidden to tell you. The point of the matter is that I am real. Just… stuck. Elsewhere right now." Those sane words seemed to cost her. I could see how hard she was trying to focus.

"Well, go bother one of your family members, who could actually help you." She shook her head vehemently. "Can't you contact them?"

"I've tried. They… cannot see past their own noses. They believe I am dead, and do not look for more. Your eyes are open and…" She stopped, and her expression lost its ferocious concentration. "You were saying, dear?" Ooh. Back to crazy.

I blinked. What the hell? "I didn't – you –" she looked at me expectantly, and I knew that it would be pointless.

"You really are a strange girl. I do hope you're not too strange for my sons." I grimaced.

"No chance," I muttered darkly. "Why did you do this to me?" I was suddenly angry. This woman had torn my life to shreds because of some delusion that my mother wanted to come back to court. "Why did you obligate me to marry one of them and ruin my life?"

"You don't want to marry a prince?" She asked the question innocently.

"No." I stated hoarsely. "I don't want the fairy tale prince. I want my home, my life, and my mom. And you took that from me!" I pointed at her accusingly. I watched her frown.

"Pity. You'll have to, or no one will become king." She grinned, as if proud of herself. "I cursed the crown. If dear Oberon were to die, someone would _have_ to marry you in order to be king." My heart dropped. This deal just got better and better, didn't it?

My mouth opened and shut as I searched for words. "You can't be serious."

"You can thank me later, dear, when you're Princess." I wanted to scream that I didn't want to be a princess. That was something reserved for when I was a little girl. No, I wanted to teach dance for a living. That was what I had wanted. The woman didn't give me a chance. "Now, now. I need to go. And please, dear, come again." She paused before she left, as if she wanted to say something more, but just kept walking.

Once she was gone, I let out a wail of shock and anger. "You… evil… ugh!" I threw a hand up in the air and looked angrily up. "Does someone up there have something against me? Because it's starting to get old. I really hope you don't have something new and exciting up your sleeve still." Growling ferociously, I looked back at the painting. It was good to see Mom again, even if it was just a picture.

I noted a gold plate underneath the image, and leaned forward to read it. 'Queen Niera and her lady-in-waiting, Lady Lanora' it read blandly. Sighing, something in me wished I knew more about who my mother had been while she was here. Everything else said that sometimes what was unknown was generally better left unknown.

I left the area, and knew that I would come back again. Niera had that information, and I knew that I was a curious person. I'd be back.

Leaving the library, I hastened through the halls. With a candle lighting the way, things were less intimidating. To some extent. The creatures by the walls became quite clear to me. They didn't seem to maintain one shape for very long. One moment there would be a dog and the next a goblin creature. The shifting was not a smooth thing. Although it made no sound, you watched their form twist and break into the next. I shuddered.

Their eyes followed me as I walked. The candlelight filled the trademark dark eyes with devilish fire. I merely walked a little faster, and did my best to ignore them. For the most part they left me alone. Until one finally approached.

He settled upon the shape of a very little man. Like the sort of creepy midget guy that you hope that you never run into. He started following me. When he continued it for a few more halls, I turned around and have him a glare. He looked at me and grinned. It was chilling, but I refused to be cowed.

Fighting the need to run away, I said, "Hey, creeper, back off." It sounded stupid, and he tilted his head at me. "Leave me alone." I enunciated each word carefully. "Ya got me? Scram."

He chuckled malevolently. Well, that was creepy. Time to go. I spun around and he was in front of me. Not cool, man. Not cool. Panic rose as he walked towards me, but I quickly told myself that this was foolish. I could handle this. He was a midget for goodness sake! I began to walk towards him, but he began to shift again.

He became a big wolf. Who's afraid of the big bad wolf? Well, I was no idiot, and I could see this going badly. I backed away as he growled at me. "Curious humans should learn to stay with their masters, no?" It was odd hearing a gravelly Irish voice from a wolf.

"I have no master. Get the hell out of my way," I managed to muster, starting to walk past him again. He snarled and then his muzzle twisted into a sick smile. I stopped. 'I'll just be staying here then,' I thought, watching the wolf for any movement.

"Mmmm. That could be remedied easily, lass." Shit. I could run, but he would catch up to me. I could stay, but then I would still be screwed. My heart thudded in my rib cage. 'Think, Grace, think,' I ordered myself.

Something told me to dance. Mindlessly, I thought of the dance from Chicago that we had once done. I could hear the music now, with the introduction, "Ladies and gentlemen, Velma Kelly in an act of desperation…" Yep, this was definitely an act of desperation.

Yes, I think I Bob Fosse-d him into chains. I really can't be sure. I started doing some sort of crazy wild something or rather and then I hear upset groans from the floor. Stopping I glanced down, and there was the wolf, trapped in chains that shifted with each shape he took. I stared for a few moments. 'Woah… it worked,' I thought. Triumph filled me, and I beamed.

Laughing victoriously, I did a mini success dance. Hooray for dancing and hooray for me! "Hah!" I said, pointing at the Faerie, clearly gloating. "That, sir, is what you get for screwing with Grace Donovan!" His eyes widened at the name.

"Lady Grace? Apologies m'lady! Have pity on a poor bugger, would ye?" I blinked at him, and sighed. "Lemme go so I can return to my job?" I frowned. That would be stupid.

"Even if I could I wouldn't. Nothing personal, but you just attacked me." I shrugged, and started to walk off. In response he started to howl in displeasure. Whatever. Let him wail. I finally looked up and saw Tiernan smiling at me.

"Well, my lady, I would say your time with Thistle has been good for you. Allow me to get rid of this scoundrel for you." The howls from the bugger suddenly became silent, and I glanced back at him.

"Like hell. He's taken care of." I snapped.

Tiernan frowned. "Crude language for a lady." I rolled my eyes. He could stuff it. "But I only mean to kill him for your honor." He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

I turned to look at him like he was crazy. "Woahwoahwoah, kill him? What sort of women do you deal with, you idiot? Don't _kill_ him. Killing him won't restore my honor." I paused. "For that matter, what right do you have to protect my honor!" He looked at me balefully, and I threw my hands up in the hair. Finally, I said, "Just… don't let him near me. Again." That sounded reasonable, and it seemed to please Tiernan to have a task to do. 'Like a dog,' I thought.

"In return for the favor, may I have one in return?" he asked hopefully.

In my exhaustion I brushed him off by saying, "Sure. Yes. Whatever."

I did not look back – did not want to look back – at the prince as he strode towards the whimpering form of the bugger lying on the ground. Numbly I walked through the halls. I wasn't tired, simply distracted.

Perhaps that was why I ran into someone. "Watch where you're walking, you moron!" I shouted from the floor before I saw that it was Warren, who know lay on the floor across from me.


	16. Little Girl

"Nice to see you too," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Standing, he glared at me a little. I bit my lip, feeling bad. Hell, Warren had been nothing but a nice guy this whole time, and just because I was feeling a little pissy at his entire family, I was being a bitch to him.

Rubbing my arm from the ground, I said, "I'm sorry. I have no right to take out the fact that my life is miserable because of your relatives on you…" Pulling my hair out of my face, I scratched the back of my head awkwardly. He looked at me for a few moments, and then smiled at me lopsidedly.

"Hey. I get it. You feel as though your life was ruined. My relatives do it a lot." He shrugged, and then held out a hand to me. "Like a hand?" I grinned. I guess that was 'apology accepted'. Taking the hand, he quickly pulled me to my feet. "So why are you up? These aren't exactly the normal hours of the day." Glancing at him, I figured I'd give him a try. 'Just treat him like any other normal guy, Grace. You can do this.'

"I would ask you the same thing." I said. "But since you asked first; I couldn't sleep."

He nodded thoughtfully. "I know what you mean." I looked at him expectantly, and he remembered that it was his turn to share. "Yeah… I stay up because a lot of the materials I work with don't like too much light. It's just easier during the night."

"Materials you work with?" But it dawned on me when I remembered that Mama Thistle had said that he expressed magic through his inventions. "Oh yeah! Mama Thistle said something about your inventions. Wish I could invent stuff. I imagine it being pretty nifty."

Smiling modestly, he shrugged. "It's just something I do. The designs speak to me… I really can't explain it." He paused, which gave me time to think. Kind of like how the volta had spoken to me earlier tonight, I realized.

The pause continued, and we stood there with nothing to say for a few moments. It was awkward. I grimaced. "Late, innit?" I laughed gently at the two of us standing there, trying to be polite and friendly. He returned the laugh.

"Mmmm. Can't find much to say. I was headed to my work room, and don't have much else on my mind…" He stopped, and then beamed. "Hey, come with me? Since you can't sleep, you might as well see something more interesting than the halls."

I paused. I didn't know much about the guy, and I wasn't sure… but I was curious, and he had a point when he said that I didn't have much better to do. "Sure. Why not? Lead on!" He began to lead me through the halls.

As he lead, my eyes strayed all over the place. My candle gave me the ability to see some of the portraits that decorated the walls. They were done masterfully, but the subject matters ranged from cheerful to quite dark. While my eyes strayed, I saw a hallway from which emanated a delicious smell. At the end was a pair of doors.

As I watched, those doors swung open and a dirty looking girl was dragged out by the ear by a woman wearing a fine white gown. Or what would have been a fine white gown if it were not for the large burgundy splotch running down the front.

The woman looked furious, and the young girl looked terrified. She was probably a servant. Stopping, I watched for a moment longer, only to see the woman slap the girl across the face brutally. The kid fell to the ground, and whimpered.

Running forward, I said, "Hey, stop!" I wasn't going to stand by and let some woman abuse a little kid.

The woman turned to glare at me, eyes flickering yellow. Apparently their eyes did vary. "And who might you be?" She spat at me darkly.

"What does it matter! You're abusing this poor girl," I exclaimed.

Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "When a slave pours wine over one's dress, they deserve to be punished." Pulling the girl back up to her feet, she hissed, "No one wants her anyway. She's just a mortal, and can easily be replaced with something less clumsy." She shook the child a little bit at this.

"I'll take her," I said without thinking. The woman stopped at this, and tilted her head at me slightly.

"And you have the nerve to assume that you, a mortal, hold any power over me." She moved fast, and had me pinned against a wall. "You should learn your place."

"I've heard that a lot lately. Getting really tired of it, actually," I spat. I kicked her, and she stumbled away from me. While she reeled, I reached for the girl's wrist and pulled her behind me. I could at the very least act like a shield for the child. She clung to my hips, and I sighed. Dancing wasn't going to be much of any option now.

The woman recovered quickly, and glanced at me, eye blazing. "Do you know who you're dealing with, little girl?"

I responded quickly saying, "Do you?" I saw her begin to approach me. However, Warren called to me and she froze at the sound of his voice.

"There you are! You wandered off and I was worried that my father would be angered by our late arrival. Come along, now." He began to lead me off, and I was careful to drag the little girl – who remained stuck to my side – along with me.

The woman wasn't about to forfeit the fight. "My prince!" she called out, "She's taking my property." As she gestured towards the girl, I felt the blond child stiffen and dig her nails into my arm. I wrapped a protective arm around, and glanced wildly at Warren. I would fight about this one.

He returned my look. "Lady Rowan… I'm sure that there is something we can give you in return for the girl." Warren looked at her hopefully.

"You cannot allow her to steal my property! She is mine to punish as I wish and I wish to punish her!" Lady Rowan exclaimed furiously. She made a move to grab the girl, and I moved so that she grabbed my arm instead – the girl was safely on the other side of my body. The woman glared into my eyes. I returned said glare evenly. This was a picnic compared to the King. "Your defiance tires me, girl," she hissed.

I felt myself jerked away from the girl, and tossed to the floor. Grimacing, I barely had time to recover when she swept me up and gripped both of my arms. Grinning widely, she leaned forward to whisper, "You know something? If you want to protect the human girl you can just work for me in her place. You seem to be a strong human. Less liable to drop things."

I was ready to agree. I would much rather have myself working for this bitch than have a small girl working for her. However, Warren interjected, "That would not be befitting of Lady Lanora's daughter." Rowan looked at me for a few moments, and then let me go.

"Lanora's…" She glanced at me, and I saw her eyes darken in fury. It faded in a few moments. "I see the family resemblance." Her voice dripped with ice. "This is the one who is to marry you or your brothers?" Warren nodded solemnly. She glanced at me, and I saw the bitterness in her eyes. Rubbing an arm, she nodded slowly. "I see. My apologies."

Lady Rowan began to saunter off. "Keep the girl. Consider her to be an early gift for the coming wedding." I felt myself chill at the mention of a wedding. Yes, I know what it means to have to… marry one of them. But marriage? That had somehow been neglected from my mind.

Picturing myself walking down to aisle in a big white gown to be greeted by one of them… I could see Arion smirking at me from the end, and I stopped myself. 'Calm down. You're not going to get married to any of them. You still can escape.'

I almost didn't want to accept the girl, but I would take it as a small victory for today. My eyes set upon her, cringing against the wall. I knelt beside her, and slowly turned her around. She looked to be about six, but her eyes were dark and looked like they had seen too many things. Dirt and tears streaked her cherubic face. "Hey, kid, you're going to be okay. You're with me, now. That monster in a gown can't hurt you anymore."

She responded by clinging to me and sobbing. I looked angrily at Warren. "Your people make children work for them?"

Warren sighed. "It's an old custom. Several large conflicts have been bred over whether or not we should maintain the human slavery. Most feel as though it is our right; we are more powerful, they should serve us. Some, however, would rather use that power for some semblance of good. I am of the latter. I don't keep any humans as servants." He paused, and then counseled, "And I would be careful as to whom you call a 'monster in a gown'." Leaning over, he whispered, "True as it may be, Lady Rowan is of an old line and extremely powerful in her own right. That is a woman you do not wish to anger."

I shook my head angrily. "Anyone who treats children like this will not get civility from me. Fake or otherwise." Gently, I pried the girls arms off of me. Looking into her gray or blue or green eyes (they seemed to shift as soon as I had decided) I asked, "So, what is your name?"

She shook her head vehemently, and tapped her lips, still shaking her head. I frowned, trying to figure out what she was saying. Until it dawned on me. "You can't speak?" I asked, shocked. She nodded. "Can you write?" She shook her head. Damn. There goes that idea… "Do you have a name?" She nodded, and pointed to her chest.

Boy, this was going to take a while if I had to learn to understand her signs. "Chest?" I guessed. She shook her head, and frowned. She then pointed at me. "Me?" Once against she shook her head, and then tapped the spot over my heart insistently. "Heart?" She beamed at me. Phew. "Why don't we go back to my room, get you cleaned up, fed and put in some new clothes?" I glanced at Warren hopefully, and he nodded.

"You know where you're going, I take it?" He asked. I nodded. As we began to walk away, I turned and mouthed, 'Thank you.' He nodded, and walked the other direction.

One our way back from the room, we had to walk past the Queen's portrait. Heart paused in front of it, and I nearly didn't catch that she had stopped. First I looked at her, and then at the picture. "Terrifying, isn't she?" I said. The blond just shook her head slowly and looked knowingly up at the portrait. I could have sworn I saw her mouth something, although what I couldn't be sure. Shaking her head, she then turned to smile at me. "Let's keep going," I said, ignoring the odd pause.

I swept her into my room first, and nearly followed her in when someone grabbed me from behind. The door closed, and I panicked momentarily. I was pulled around the corner and into a small alcove by my attacker.

"Stay away from Tiernan," the person demanded. I recognized the voice quickly; Rowan.

"Hey, I don't want him. I don't want to be Queen. I just want to get out of here and go home." I was spun so that I could see her. She stared at me.

"And if I were to help you escape…?"

"I would leave. Gladly." She smiled at me, although I couldn't say that it was a kind smile.

"I will help you, Halfling. Meet me here tonight." With that she left, and I returned to my room feeling lighter and happier than I could have thought possible.


	17. Escape

**This is classifiable brain-puke. It's _very_ short, and what I consider to be a pathetic excuse for this particular story.**

**So I apologize for both the long wait and the fact that this is just my way of trying to think like Grace again.**

**^^"  
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I walked into the room trying to betray none of my excitement. The last thing I wanted was to screw this thing up. It was my chance to get to my mother. My mind wandered to her, and I wondered what she had done to explain my missing state… What about my friends? I almost didn't want to know.

I ordered up food and hot water for a bath through Marie, who seemed to take to Heart. Within a few minutes, the food and water was there. Heart grabbed the food, and gobbled it down as quickly as I had placed it in front of her. "You're going to regret that," I told her, smirking.

She blinked at me as if looking for an explanation. "Whenever I ate too quickly I got stomach aches." She shrugged and smiled as if to say 'Oh well'. I grinned. "I get it. Hunger outweighs later pain. Let's get you into that bath." I quickly stripped her down and she slowly got into the water – at first testing the temperature with her toe and then beaming with unadulterated delight. I figured warm baths most come few and far between as a servant.

Once settled, I set to work on scrubbing her down. Kid had a lot of dirt on her. First step was taking the soap bar (or the thing I presumed was soap since it made bubbles in the water) and telling her to use as much as she could possibly want on herself. With soap in her hand, she began to scrub with great fervor.

_Knock knock_ I heard from inside the bathroom. I stood, and greeted Warren who stood there with clothes that would suit a child. "Thanks," I said genuinely, taking the small heap from his arms. He seemed to be relieved not to be carrying the clothes anymore.

"You're welcome," he replied. "How is she?"

"Full and getting clean as we speak." I glanced back at the bathroom, and smiled. Silence hung there, as I searched for something to say.

Thankfully, he cleared his throat. "I should go." I nodded quickly.

"Thanks again." I said, closing the door. Sighing, I leaned against the wood. That had been awkward. Hastily, I shook my head and moved the moment into the 'things I don't care about' category of my brain. I needed to clean Heart. I needed to escape. Thinking about awkward moments with a faerie prince you won't see again? Not so much.

By the time I returned, Heart looked clean and her hair needed brushing. Before which, I let her pick out and put on one of the outfits Warren had gotten for her. Then I took to her hair with a brush like a mad woman, which seemed to displease Heart a great deal because I have no sympathy for people with tangled hair. My own wildly curly locks had led to so many bad tangles that I had a scalp of steel. I occasionally forgot that most didn't also have such a scalp.

After a few glares from Heart, I slowed in pace and got the tangles out. (It would have been faster my way, but hey.) I turned her around so that I could get a good look. Her blond hair had slight waves to it, and framed her face beautifully. Her face cleaned was the sort of child you'd expect to find only in the magazine cover families – she was just that cherubic. And she was also yawning widely.

I yawned back and said, "Yeah, me too. Let's go to bed, eh?" I escorted her to the large bed, and she curled up underneath the sheets. Yeah… she was really too cute for her own good with her eyes closed. Feeling like it was a night (afternoon, morning?) well spent, I said goodnight to Marie and pretended to curl up to go the sleep.

Truth was I was far too excited to close my eyes just yet – even if I was feeling a bit drowsy. I would be awake when Rowan contacted me….

I woke up to a person shaking my shoulder harshly. I bolted upright, and hopped out of bed. Rowan stood there, dressed in darkly colored men's clothing. Harshly, she tossed me something that felt like clothes, and gestured for me to put them on. Nodding, I leaned over the bed to wake Heart up, but felt someone grab my hand.

Glancing up in annoyance, Rowan stood there, shaking her head furiously. My eyes narrowed. "She needs to come, too. It's for her safety," I hissed as softly as I could manage.

"We can't take her along. She won't be able to able to keep up and I don't have dark clothes for her. Besides, she's been here since infancy. Once a child is so ingrained in this world, they are trapped." I glanced back at Heart. What would I do with her the real world? Keep her as my own? I knew that it wouldn't be possible. Mom might take her in but… no. Heart needed to come, too.

"I'm taking her, whether you like it or not," I said sternly. Rowan hissed softly, and pulled me sharply away from the bed.

"You take her, and you're going to have to try to get out of the castle on your own." I swallowed slowly. Escape or protect Heart… I'd only known the girl for a short while and I didn't feel like I could trust anyone to protect a kid her age. Unless…

"You want me out of here, right?" Slowly, Rowan nodded. "So I promise to leave with no fuss if you promise to ensure that no harm comes to her." I watched Rowan consider it for a few moments. "C'mon, it's just taking care of one little girl." I wanted this to be a quick decision – goading her on should do it.

Finally, Rowan nodded. "I'll do it. Now get dressed." Smiling to myself, I slipped into the dark garments hastily. They were all just a little too big, but thankfully she'd also brought and vest and belt to help. Once dressed, she looked at me speculatively. "You'll need something to cover up that hair." Snapping her fingers, a small page cap appeared. "Braid your hair and tuck it in," she commanded. I did as she said, and once done I looked at her as if to say, 'Are we ready to go now?'

Grabbing my wrist, she led me out the door.

I won't lie, I glanced back at the room guiltily. I felt bad about leaving Heart behind. But I hoped that the stories that I'd read about faeries not being able to break their promises was true. At least she would be safe here.

Rowan led me through various passageways. It was when we finally hit one that was lined with guards that I froze. How were we supposed to get through here? Glancing back at me, Rowan pulled at my wrist, but I shook my head. Was she crazy? Finally, she won the silent struggled (damn her strength) and we were in the hall.

The guards didn't seem to notice us at all. I sighed mentally. Magic. Of course. Rowan was no idiot. All the same I felt rather conscious of every move I made whilst we walked down this hall. We moved slowly, and during the entire way I barely allowed myself to breathe. Somehow having the guards not noticing us, even though we were definitely there, brought a whole new level of creepy to things.

We reached the end of the hall, which lead into a small, cave-like room. I glanced around, and heard water running. Rowan caught me off my guard by pulling me along whilst I was looking around. The caves we now walked through were dark and smooth, and underneath our feet a tiny steam of water flowed. Tiny blue flowers hung along the walls, and glowed lightly. In a way, it was beautiful. What struck me most was the thundering sound that got progressively louder as we walked on.

At the very end of this passage, water poured in torrents. Rowan stepped close to the sheets of water, and then stopped. "This is your way out." she said, over the water. "Go." I looked apprehensively at it. This was it? The border between faerie and human was here? I turned back to look at her, but felt something hit the back of my head sharply. I fell to the ground; my head aching, vision darkening.

The last thing I felt was the sensation of falling…


	18. Running

**I know this is kinda dorky, but this might just be my new favorite chapter.**

**So I really want to dedicate it to all of those people who have been sticking with me this entire time. Who have commented on darn near every chapter and encouraged me to keep going with this little project of mine.**

**Thank you to you all. I think you know who you are. Much love!**

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"Ugh…"

I made my first sound, and feeling came back to my body. What had happened? Rubbing the back of my head, I sat up and shivered violently. I was soaking wet and wearing bizarre clothes that dragged me down with their weight.

Slowly, I stood in the pool of water, and looked around me.

Where I now stood was a pond of sorts – a pond which had apparently missed the memo that it was winter and it should be frozen over and cold. Quite to the contrary, it didn't have a drop of ice in it, and was a quite comfortable temperature. Then there was that other little detail – it was winter outside.

I didn't know why this was odd. I just knew that it should have been different. Because I had gone away… but for the life of me I couldn't remember where. I was supposed to be elsewhere. For some reason I was here now. My brow furrowed. The last thing I could very clearly remember was getting to the cabin with Mom. That would place my last memory in October. What was up with the missing time?

A sharp cold breeze cut through my soaking clothes – which appeared to be black pirate clothing. The moment it hit my wet skin, I felt as though small splinters of cold were being shoved into my arms. Gasping from the cold, I dunked back down into the water where I was at least passably warm.

The pond appeared to be fed by a waterfall – which was also extremely strange. You'd think a massive lake would be near a waterfall like that. Well, I wasn't going to complain. The pond was keeping me warm.

However I needed to move. I knew that. I needed to get back to the cabin and back to Mom. Why I felt a tiny bit of dread when I thought of those things, I didn't know. But I needed to get going. The unfortunate thing about that was I had _no clue_ where I was, and I knew that wet plus cold generally equaled hypothermia and subsequent death. Not my idea of a positive experience.

I thought about it for a few seconds, and knew I couldn't very well stay here. Who knew what might find in these woods?

Quickly I stood and shuddered immediately as I did so. It was freezing out. Looking apprehensively at the snow the bordered the pond, I figured that at least one positive thing about my clothing was that it came with boots. Hesitantly, I took one step out of the pond and felt myself starting to feel even colder. I gritted my teeth against it, and began to run.

There was really no point in walking. Not only could I get places faster by running, but running would at the very least keep me warmer than I would be walking. Unfortunately the fact that I suck as a runner caught up with me about five minutes in. Maybe not even.

I stopped to take a few deep gasping breaths. The cold air bit into my lungs, and I felt ill. My tiny respite allowed me to hear singing. I tilted my head towards it, and my heart lifted a little. Another human being. They could help me out!

Beaming, I followed the sound, moving as quickly as I possibly could. I was starting to get too cold. I could tell by the way my fingers were turning red and how my toes were getting number and number.

Finally, the voice was near and I jumped around a few trees only to find a chestnut colored horse. This horse was gaunt, and propped halfway out of the water of the stream that ran through the forest. I blinked for a few moments, and watched this horse sing. It sounded like a woman, and that voice was achingly familiar. I was fascinated for a few moments, but then a tail came whipping out of the water.

My jaw dropped. From the horse's torso on was a fin. Blinking, I began to run away.

"Grace?" I heard a voice ask. Mom! I knew that voice, it was my mothers. I looked around for her, and found her nowhere. "Gracie… look at the horse." I looked at the creature. "I'm sorry Gracie," the horse said, its jaw moving incongruously with the words, like a poorly dubbed movie. My throat tightened. 'No. This isn't real. That isn't my mother,' I thought wildly.

"Mom?" I stepped closer, fearfully. Maybe this creature was just messing with my head. "This isn't possible, Mom. You can't be…" I gestured towards her form.

The horse seemed to frown. "You've forgotten?" Mom the horse-thing seemed to think for a few moments. "Well, of course. She couldn't have just escaped from them. They would have _had_ to let her go…"

What she was saying was bringing back tiny memories. Escape. Escape from whom? Them… the royal family. With that thought, it all slid back into place, and the memories showed on my face. The horse-thing was Mom – she'd said she was a faerie of sorts, a kelpie. Dad was a magician. I had been captured and given the task of marrying one of the three faerie princes. But I had escaped, and was back with my mom. All would be fine, right?

"They didn't let me go. I left with a faerie named Rowan. She got me out… but I was hit on the back of the head and tossed through a waterfall," I explained to Mom slowly. She rose an eyebrow.

"Rowan? As in Lady Rowan?" She shook her head in a disturbed manner. "You didn't make any bargains with her?" I nodded.

"That shouldn't be a problem." I replied, shrugging. "I kept my end of the bargain – I left. She will just have to protect Heart – a human girl I saved – in return."

Mom shook her head. "No. Bargaining with fae is a bad idea at all times. We twist promises into knots like you couldn't imagine. Why do you think I made such a good lawyer? The key thing is to never make any definite promises. Or tell any full lies." She stopped, and then smiled. "But you're here, now. Safe." I shuddered then, and she looked at me speculatively. I'm not going to lie – seeing vague impressions of my mother's expressions on a horse was freaky. "You're wet. How long have you been wandering like this?"

"Since I got out of the pond," I stated matter-of-factly. I was so cold! I stood there shaking like a leaf, and I watched the horse shake its head and whicker before its hindquarters shifted from scaly tail to the proper horse shape.

"Get on my back." Mom said urgently. "You're cold and wet and you need to be warmed." I looked at her like she was crazy.

"Mom, you know how awkward a statement that is, right?"

She chuckled. "Yes. But the point is you need warming. So it's a little strange, but there's no point in you escaping only to freeze to death." The horse-Mom knelt in the snow. "Now get on my back." I nodded, and got on obediently. The horse stood, and I clung for dear life to her neck. I was no horsewoman. Mom had tried to get me interested in riding in the past, but horses didn't like me and I didn't feel so warm and fuzzy towards them either.

At first the riding was awkward. I couldn't think of her as my mother, or I wanted to burst out laughing or crying and that weird combination of emotion was a bit much for me right now. So I focused on how much it bothered me that I had forgotten about the faerie world. It was something other than how dreadfully cold I was to think about.

The only reasonable explanation was either the passage between worlds made you forgetful, or Rowan had made me forget. Perhaps the whack on the back of my head had done it, but I severely doubted it. The next question was why Rowan – because, honestly, it couldn't have been anyone else – had hit me on the back of the head. I was leaving_ anyway_. Unless she had hoped the water would have a higher chance of killing me on the way out. It would make sense that an overly jealous faerie would try and kill the competition.

But why think about Rowan anymore? While I was riding away, she was going to be staying in her castle. We wouldn't run into each other ever again, knock on wood.

We soon arrived at the cabin. It looked horrendous – the front door was wide open and undoubtedly some creatures had taken residence inside by now. Why hadn't Mom bothered to fix it up? I looked at her current form, and wondered why she kept her shape as a kelpie if she could just make herself look human again?

Although these were all good questions, the current issue was getting my cold stiffened joints to want to move. The clothes on my back had begun to freeze, and I could barely pull myself off my mother's back. Standing up was even more exciting. I couldn't feel my toes at all, and stumbled painfully inside the house.

I watched Mom enter, and shove me towards the bathroom on this floor. She shoved me hurriedly inside, and stamped a little to convince some of the squirrels living in the tub that they really wanted to leave.

Stiffly, I turned the water on, and moved to strip.

"Get in the tub. Now. You're too cold. Go." I stared at her for a few moments, but didn't question the orders. The moment the semi-warm water hit my chilled body, it scalded. It was painful. At least there was still warm water running in the house. But I was on fire. It hurt, and I watched as my hands reddened from the sudden exposure to heat.

I just hoped that I wouldn't lose any limbs from this adventure.

"Mom could you grab me some clothes?" She was already gone, and had somehow managed to close the door without my noticing. Frowning, I sunk deeper into the painfully warm water. After a few minutes, though, my body adjusted and I was in bliss. Warm water and I was home. Smiling to myself, I pulled off the clothes. It was like I was shedding all of those bad faerie memories.

Feeling thoroughly thawed, I pulled myself out of the tub and wrapped a towel around myself. Peeking outside, cold air greeted me in a draft from the front door. I yelped, and then hurriedly ran upstairs.

I was pleased to find that my room had been left untouched by animals. That door was shut. Thank goodness for small favors. I pulled out my suit case, and dressed myself in jeans and a baggy sweatshirt that had my high school logo emblazoned across the back. I even slipped on slippers.

Heading downstairs was surreal. It felt like it belonged in a dream – the horse who was my mother stood by the cabin door which was destroyed. This would be only something that my tweaked subconscious would come up with.

But my thoughts soon were focused upon the incredible sadness in Mom's deep, black horsey eyes. There was real pain there, and I had a feeling that I was about to get bad news. "Honey, you need to go. Take the car and get to the nearest city. Tell them who you are, and hide for as long as you can. I suggest the city, because of the amount of iron there. They – we – don't like going there. The air itself feels like poison."

I shook my head. "Why would we go to a city if it would be bad for you? Mom, why don't you just use your magic and look human again?" It sounded naïve and weak when I spoke those words, but I wasn't about to abandon my mom, faerie or not.

She looked to the side. "I..." she choked off and then continued, "I cannot change any longer. Perhaps one more shift into my most natural form, but not a human shape. The agreement with Mama Thistle said that I would no longer have my magic after becoming human. After changing shape, I had a limited amount of power. I'm sorry, Grace."

"No. I won't leave you." This wasn't happening. I wasn't going to run away without her. Hell, I'd fought my way _back_ to the human world and now here I was listening to my mother telling me that she couldn't run with me. I crossed my arms, and looked as stubborn as possible.

"Grace! You are being irrational. The fae courts don't care about me. Yes, they might tear me apart to get to you. Lord knows, that's what they did to Markus! But we swore that you would grow up to have a good and normal life. We swore to die to protect you if we had to." My mother's voice rang with emotion. "Run, Grace. They'll come quickly once they know you've escaped. As of right now we've wasted too much time. There's money in my purse – in the kitchen. Take that, the keys, and run. Don't look back. Don't stop. I'll be fine."

It was a lie. I don't know how I knew, but she was lying to my face. The little girl in me wanted to kick and scream and cry. The world wasn't being fair to me. To us.

But Mom was counting on me to be able to handle this. I hugged her quickly around her neck. "Love you, Mom. Always will," I said. I think I saw her smile.

With that, I ran into the kitchen, grabbed the purse and keys, rushed out to the car and stuck the keys into the ignition. I paused to look back for a few moments, and then looked at the car. "Work, please," I willed it softly, and smiled when it came to life slowly. As soon as I had oriented myself, I was driving away from the cabin.


	19. Found

I drove for hours.

At the time, I had little concept of where to go; just a vague notion of the need to escape. I got on to the first highway, and allowed it to carry me for a while before I realized that Mom's car – my car, now, I guess – was in desperate need of gas.

While it refilled, I dug around for money in my mother's purse, and found a piece of paper.

It had been written on hastily, and had been from the pad of paper that lived near the phone in the cabin. The writing was difficult to read, but soon I knew that I was picking out my mother's handwriting, which was downright dreadful when she was rushing.

The note detailed the best way for me to live. She told me to go to New York City – it was close, and the fae practically passed out getting near there. The letter said that there was already an apartment leased out there – she'd been planning on having to hide me for so many years by now that she had kept something on the side.

She also told me that my bank account had enough money to keep any sensible person running for a while. Mom also gave me permission to take on her identity whenever I had to. "Feel free to forge my signature," she wrote, "And if you must, use my driver's license and credit cards. No drinking, though." I almost laughed. Just like Mom. At the very end was an "I love you, Grace. With all my heart." Perhaps that was when I starting tearing up. I just couldn't stop myself.

Here I was, running from people more powerful that I was. Suddenly the responsibility of living was dumped upon me. I needed to keep going on what my mother had left me. For all I knew, I had also now been reduced to zero parents. Oh, and if I got captured again life would suck even more. That sort of pressure makes a person crack. My mother's last tender words made me break down.

I sat there sniffling until I noticed that the gas tank was full. With that, I ran my mother's credit card through the machine and then solemnly drove off. My resolve was firm. Mom thought I could do this, and I could. I just had to be careful. I set my jaw, and off I went to New York.

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The only downside to the car mom had left me was the lack of a GPS. I had no idea where I was going, and bungled around New York until I finally found the apartment building that I was supposedly going to be living in.

Mom had left instructions for the woman who owned the place that said either she or I would end up picking the keys up. This woman even had my school pictures to use as proof that I was who I said I was. She escorted me up to my apartment, and gave me a quick tour before leaving me with the keys.

The apartment was nice. It was just slightly larger than my room, and had a tiny, but homey, kitchenette installed. The bed was small, but comfortable. The bathroom was similar in nature. It even came with a lovely view of the streets below. I was somewhere nearby to Central Park in location, so I wasn't looking at dirty streets and the like. I only had a vague notion of how much this must be costing my mom.

It was when I finally looked in the fridge that I knew I needed food.

Thankfully, Mom had taken me to New York on more than one occasion. They had always been extremely short trips, but it had happened often enough that I knew where I could get food. Any large drugstore like Walgreens would do.

I found it all too easy to settle into a routine for the city. I got myself food at the Walgreen's, and what I couldn't get there I could easily make up for during the summer at the produce markets. Street fairs practically kept me clothed and fed because there one could at least haggle with the vendors.

Life was… okay. I needed a job though, and halfway through the summer I started working in a dance studio. It had been hard to persuade the owner – Charlotte Dusablon – that was indeed worthy of the job. I taught the little kids. Some of them were there because they actually had talent; most were there because mummy wanted her little angel to be a ballet dancer.

I was extremely careful – to the point where one could say that I was paranoid. I didn't want my teaching to turn into a magic show, and I didn't know how to prevent that from happening. Perhaps that was why I started practicing what I could do with my magic at home.

The first few self-taught lessons were… uneventful. At times I thought that my magic would only work in the faerieland. When I melted one of my window plants with a few hip hop moves I'd picked up from another dance teacher, I reconsidered that thought.

My control got better, and I began to get a sense of what it meant to feel the magic moving through the dance – which is harder than you might think. Focusing it to a purpose? That was much, much harder. With the magic moving through the dance, I've tossed around a few coffee cups and made some very bizarre things happen.

The point is I've never tossed one of my kids across the room because I couldn't control my magic. I'd never be able to forgive myself if something like that happened.

During the tail end of winter and a little into spring, I was paranoid enough to look twice at everyone who walked around me. I watched like a hawk for any magic and avoided people who looked like fae. There was no doubt in my mind that the fae were doing all they possibly could to drag me back into their world, and there was no way in hell that I would return.

After a while, I became less shifty and more comfortable with the fact that very few faeries were in New York. In fact, I didn't run into a single one. With my mother's money, my dream job, and a nice apartment, this was my heaven.

Too bad I'm just not that lucky.

It was in early September that the wooziness started setting in. At times, I had little dizzy spells, where I felt like I couldn't breathe. Then I couldn't touch railings anymore without a zing of pain. Things got progressively worse, until I realized what was happening. My half-fae nature was setting in. Ms. Dusablon gave me a vacation, and I headed out of the city.

The car was painful, but as I got further away from New York, the better things got. I had no idea where I was going; I just knew that I needed to get somewhere _else_. I went towards the Hamptons. A beach sounded great, and I knew that I would be able to take a breather nearby to the water.

I remembered that my mom had loved beaches. We'd gone on vacations to Florida and we had always spent a lot of the time on the beach. Well, that certainly made sense now.

I parked my car as close to the beach as I could get. Tossing my sneakers off, I leapt out and danced in the sand a little bit. It felt good between my toes. Grinning, I felt the wind play with my curls. I was giddy with the euphoria of no longer feeling that oppressive iron all around me.

Somewhat drunkenly, I stumbled through the sand and allowed myself to fall backwards into the gritty stuff. At that time, I could have cared less about whether or not I was making a fool of myself or my safety, really. It just felt good to be liberated of the city. Free of all other thoughts than how nice it was to have sand in my toes, to smell the water.

Slowly, I rolled myself onto my belly so I could look around. No one else was on the beach, seeing as it was cloudy today, and it threatened to rain. A little water wouldn't kill me. I laughed at the thought, and my gaze turned to the water.

Perhaps it was then that I should have stopped to consider things. But I was too busy reveling in being able to breathe. I pulled myself to my feet, and rolled up my jeans. Once that was done, I stepped into the waves that lapped at the shore.

Chilly water hit my feet, but it was not cold enough to stop my mad desire. I stepped further in. Finally, the water was reaching my knees. However that wasn't satisfactory. I looked – if for a few seconds – at my jeans, sighed and decided that I really didn't care. There were always more jeans in the world. I got to the point where the water touched my belly and ignored the strength of the pull from my soaked jeans.

The water pushed up against me in small, but strong, waves. I had to step back down into it so that the wind wouldn't chill the parts of me that were wet. But I felt happy. There was a wild contentedness in this moment.

Until something cold and clammy wrapped itself around one of my ankles, and pulled.

I went under immediately, and panic brushed away my happiness in a moment. Instinctively, I began to kick at whatever it was with my free foot. My foot struck something, hard, and I pushed away from it the moment I was freed from its grasp. Breaching the surface, I struggled in my wet clothes to get to land.

And I was further away than before.

Hastily, I pulled off my pants and shirt and without the weight I was able to move much faster. I stumbled onto shore in my undergarments, and glanced back at the waves. Women – disfigured, hideous women – peeped up from the water one by one. Like the women who had been in Marie's prediction…

My thoughts flickered back to the woman in the mirror, and she apologized for showing that scene. I had been crying by a pool in that version, when the women had grabbed my ankles and pulled me screaming into the water.

'Minus the crying and location, this is her vision. You said your visions weren't accurate,' I thought, smiling. They hadn't gotten me and that in and of itself was a triumph. However their presence denoted something much worse. The wind blew angrily now, and I shivered. Well, I wasn't going to be hanging around for long.

I turned away from the water, and was faced with five horses. "Fuck," I mumbled, looking belligerently at them. Undoubtedly they were kelpies, like Mom. If it weren't for the presence of those women – who I believed were the sick, twisted version of mermaids – I would think it was odd, but at least bound by some reasonable explanation.

Unfortunately, my life was no longer within the reach of reasonable explanations.

One of the horses let out a shrill whinny, and reared back. Inside its maw, I noted a row of razor-sharp teeth. Deadly horsies, indeed. I narrowed my eyes and attempted to dance. But the sand was too damned unstable; my focus was shattered in moments.

The semi-circle of kelpies slowly closed in tighter, and I kept backing away. The waves splashed my heels, and I suddenly knew their game plan. They were going to trap me in the water, and I wasn't seeing any clear way out.

My focus was entirely on the kelpies – seeing as I knew people generally died from injuries caused by a horse – and I forgot to notice the mermaids. This time they grabbed both my ankles, and I fell against the sand. The wind was knocked out of me. My mouth was opened in a wide O of shock.

I struggled and dug my fingers deep into the sand. No matter how I fought, they simply wouldn't let me go. I knew I was screwed.

But then I heard hooves pounding on the sand, and the kelpies dashed into the surf. I also felt the grip on my ankles disappear.

Quickly, I stood up, wiping the clumps of wet sand off my belly and legs. "Thank you I- " I looked up at my rescuer and screeched in indignation. I covered myself as fully as I could, and began to run for the car with all my might. However, the horse he rode cut me off.

"Move aside, Arion," I growled out, even though I knew I was quite useless standing here with nothing but a bra and panties on with my ability to dance completely hindered.

He looked down at me, and looked angered for a few seconds, before he sighed and the anger dissipated. "I'd love to," he said, "But I'm your protector until further notice."


	20. Get On the Horse

**CHAPTER 20?**

**Who knew that I would EVER get here? This is to be commemorated with great celebration and silliness! **

**... *throws confetti in air* ... Yep. That's all I got right now. Sorry. 8D  
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**Well. READ ON.  
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I scoffed at Arion. "My protector?" I looked down at my gritty body and laughed. "Bang up job you're doing so far. I was doing better on my own, thanks. I'll be getting back to the city now." I stepped around the horse, and headed for my car.

"It won't work," he called to me, and I sighed irritably and rolled my eyes. Did he really think that I was dumb enough to believe that lie?

Jumping into my car, I turned the keys. Nothing. Nadda. Zip. Zilch. I glared at the keys, and tried yet again. Once again, the car greeted me with stony silence.

"Well, since we've now confirmed that fact," he spoke briskly, an _I told you so_ tonality to his voice. Smug bastard. "I highly suggest you come with me." It was not a suggestion. Not the way he said it.

Growling angrily, I opened the door, and stepped out. I did not, however, move from that spot. He'd already gotten to see enough of my underwear. "Alright, smart guy. Explain to me _why_ I should go with you, instead of finding myself a taxi."

Arion looked at me, and a wicked glint filled his eyes. "Well, for starters, I doubt that you want to stumble around showing off the cherries which are all over those lovely panties of yours." I wished I had the power to strangle him. Or toss him into a fiery pit. Or slowly torture him. Anything slow and painful really, as long as it resulted in his subsequent death.

"You…" I was at a complete loss for words. I swallowed, and then came to the realization that I'd rather flash my cherry covered bottom to the world than go with him. "Anything else?"

"Perhaps the fact that I'm one of the few who thinks keeping you _out_ of Merriwind is a good idea?"

I blinked. Hell. That hadn't been the answer I was expecting. But my eyes narrowed in suspicion. This wasn't just for my benefit. "Why?" He looked at me as if shocked that I would _ever_ suspect him. "Don't give me that look, Arion. There's something more to this that you're telling me. Why don't you want me to return?"

He sighed. "The kingdom is warring against itself. Adding you into the equation right now… it would make things more complicated." So that was it. He didn't want his possible kingdom falling apart because of me.

"Great. So I leave, go back to the city, and am out of your hair. Toodles." I looked in the back of my car, and thankfully a sweat shirt had been tossed back there. 'Thank goodness,' I thought, slipping it on hastily. It was overly large – as with most of my favorite sweat shirts – which was a godsend right now. At least I wasn't running around showing of my undergarments. "Now where can I get a taxi or a bus…" I muttered to myself.

"Grace." I knew he was behind me. I knew it. And somehow I knew exactly what he was going to say next. "It's not that simple."

I spun around, and glared at him. "Is it _ever_ that simple?" I demanded. "When is it ever simple?" He remained resolute, and I shoved him out of my way. I needed to find myself a bus.

Arion seemed to have other thoughts, though, and grabbed my wrist. As he pulled me back to face him, I struck.

The slap was perfect, and I watched those eyes shift so quickly into their stormy anger. I braced myself for a world of hurt, but refused to let my eyes shift from his face. He would not win a battle of dominance. The anger was restrained, though, and I could tell it pained him to resist.

"Do you not care that I just saved you? Did you not notice that it was their full intent to bring you back into their world or kill you in while trying?" His voice was barely even, and his fury made it soft but urgent.

"I would have escaped." He laughed harshly, releasing me.

"Yes. Because you were doing so well before I came along." He paused. "Or did I miss something while you were being forcefully dragged into the surf?" I didn't appreciate the sarcasm – really, it was just pouring salt on the wound. But he was right. I knew too damned well that he was right. If he hadn't come when he had…

However much I loathed Arion, I knew he had a point. Crossing my arms, I jutted out my jaw. "Where are we going?" Each word made me hate myself just a little bit. I was not a graceful loser, especially when I put so much effort into an argument.

Especially when I had hoped to never see another faerie ever again.

A triumphant grin spread across his face. "Common sense at last."

"Wipe that smug look off your face," I said, my eyes narrowing at the prince. He merely retrieved his steed. Arrogance practically radiated off him.

Slowly the horse trotted back, and I grabbed my purse. If I had to, I'd at least have some money with which to get by. Even then I was plotting an escape. Maybe if he took us close enough to a city or town I would be able to slip away and get back to the city.

"Hop on, m'lady," he said, holding out a hand. I looked at the horse apprehensively. I was no great equestrian, and the idea of me try and failing to get upon a horse a, with so little actual clothing on, and b, in front of Arion, was not appealing in the least sense.

I looked at the hand and decided that I could at the very least make a fool of myself on my own. I climbed onto the back of the horse shakily. Embarrassingly enough, I had to cling to Arion for dear life in order to prevent myself from tipping off the other side. Feeling him shift to adjust to my clinging made me grumble inwardly. I hadn't taken the hand, but the grip I had on him was damaging enough to my ego.

The horse started to move, and I clutched Arion even tighter. If I never rode a horse ever again I would be perfectly content. Suddenly it struck me that he hadn't answered my question. "Where _are_ we going? You never did say."

"Somewhere safe and far away," he replied.

I grimaced. "That was both vague and extremely unhelpful," I muttered, and he glanced back at me as I said it.

"I would greatly appreciate it if you wouldn't mumble into my coat." I gave him a look, and he turned his attention back to the horse.

"I'll mumble if I want to," I replied somewhat sulkily.

This, however, was the moment that I noticed that the horse was starting to gallop down the highway.

"Are you insane?" I demanded. "How do you think people will react to seeing a nearly completely naked woman and some random man in outlandish clothing riding on a horse? This may be New York, but come on." The faster pace forced me to maintain a strong hold around his waist. We hadn't been moving that long, and I was already despising the fact that I had to act like a frantic princess who couldn't handle a horse. Even if the latter part of that fact that most certainly true.

Arion replied calmly. "They cannot see us." I shot him a look which read, _Are you serious?_

"Oh, and that makes it better." He turned and shrugged.

"They won't hit us, if that's what you're worried about. Honestly, Grace. Have some faith. I didn't come all this way to just have you crushed to bits by a pesky human vehicle." I shook my head in irritation.

"You can't honestly think that this is a good idea."

"How do you think I got here? Do you think I just appeared?" Yes, actually, I had. But his logic penetrated in my thick skull again.

"You're making sense," I muttered darkly, "Stop that." It was so much easier to be belligerent if there was a reason to do so.

We rode in silence for a while. Cars zoomed by, and they never once came even close to making us into a faerie/human/horse pancake. I wondered how he was doing it, because there was no way magic wasn't involved here.

I tried not to dwell on the thought of being crushed under a car because some joy rider was driving too fast. So I thought instead about what would drive Arion to actually keep me from Merriwind.

He'd said the kingdom was 'warring against itself'… Well, what did that mean? I had a ton of theories. There were just so many, and in the silence I was able to spin many a ridiculous possibility. Finally, curiosity and boredom drove me to ask.

"So what's really going on here?" He looked back at me.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't act so dense," I snapped. "What do you think I mean?" He continued to give me the _I don't know what you're talking about_ stare. "The faerie kingdom. What's going on that is so bad that you don't want me there?"

I watched his jaw harden in anger, which was not directed at me for a first. Or, at least, I didn't believe it was. "When you disappeared, I decided to go out and find you. Warren said that he would follow a few days later – once he'd assembled the right equipment to do so."

'If only Warren had found me,' I thought. 'I probably could have convinced _him_ to let me go.'

"After a few months," Arion continued, "I was attacked. By then I had tracked you down to New York – a very clever choice, Grace. If it weren't for the fact that I knew that sooner or later you would have to come out my task would have been quite painful." I smiled to myself. At least I'd given him a hell of a time. "Needless to say, my attackers were all Fae. They wanted to know any information about you. I assumed that after they had gotten me what they wanted, they would kill me."

"If you're trying to garner sympathy from me," I said, "It's not working. So I take it they didn't get what they wanted." It was a statement, not a question. I watched his golden hair bob in conformation.

"Indeed. I killed most of them, and left the leader. He was all too eager to talk." Arion smirked, and I shuddered. I could only imagine what dort of tactics he used to get the assassin to talk. "He told me that Tiernan had sent them." Why wasn't I shocked? I hadn't liked Tiernan when I had first met him, and with good cause. "Apparently, when I left he made a bid for power. My father had taken ill, and obviously he needed someone to run things in his stead. Tiernan probably thought that things would be easy enough – kill me, toss Warren into a dungeon where he would be completely useless, then kidnap you and he would have the throne."

I nodded slowly. "So you don't want to take me back for fear that Tiernan will pull a fast one, and stab you in the back just have an easy claim for me." He nodded, and inwardly I glowered. They acted as if I belonged to one of them.

"I believe there might be more to it, though." I looked at him. As if there could be more. It seemed pretty open and shut to me; Tiernan was a power hungry maniac who was taking an opportunity. "Something just doesn't seem right. It's too convenient." I frowned, and then realization dawned on me.

"Your father got sick right after you left, didn't he?"

"Mmmm. And there's more; the Fae are saying that the symptoms seem very similar to that of my mother's poisoning." I sighed.

"Why can't you faeries just keep things simple?" He laughed darkly in response, which just made me more uneasy. Things seemed to be unraveling, and they were unraveling around me.

To think that this mess had all started with me accepting a rose from a boy.


	21. Camping is FUN Kids!

**I'd like to take this moment to apologize for that LONG LONG LONG wait for this chapter. Please don't hate me.**

**For some reason, any creativity I had DIED and I couldn't get it back. Until recently, when I finished my other story. So... yay! We're back!**

**Just don't eat me. Please. I'm probably chewy, and won't taste good. Even with proper spicing.**

* * *

We rode until the sunset. And then we rode until the moon shone brightly in the sky. We rode until I could no longer feel my buttocks from the amount of riding we'd done that day.

I was peeved. To be kidnapped and then forced to ride for hours on end – and all because someone I loathed was asking, or rather, demanding that I do so – was a bit too much for me. But I kept quiet about it. Unfortunately, I could see the sense in what Arion had said, and since we hadn't spoken a word for the entire trip, I had gotten plenty of time to think things over.

Item number one, I still found Arion to be a royal – literally, I reflected, smirking to myself – pain in my ass. Not that this particular thought was new and or exciting for me. But it seethed in me, and that made me itch to jump off the back of his damn horse and then run like crazy.

But then there was that whole bothersome bit of Tiernan still being after me. As much as I detested the thought of staying with Arion, being forced into marrying Tiernan seemed the far worse fate. And, seeing as there was still the crazy and possessive Lady Rowan to also return to, I found myself disliking the idea of returning to Merriwind even more.

Then again, I knew that sooner or later, Arion was probably going to demand the same of me, once he felt that he could safely duck in and steal the crown from under Tiernan's nose. So either way, really, I was going to be forced into an unwanted marriage with two people I disliked.

At that point, I knew that it would be in my best interests to hide New York City again and make do there. However, we'd already seen how long the effectiveness of _that_ plan had worked out. It had landed me here.

So I foresaw two different scenarios. A, I could run away and _if_ I made it to New York City without being captured, I would probably end up being taken by one of the two brothers once I needed to leave the city. Or, B, I stay with Arion and when he decides it's safe, he would try and marry me himself.

'Neither, please,' I thought, grimacing. Not that becoming a faerie queen didn't sound like the "'bees' knees", but I would give that up in a heartbeat to be free and live my own life. With that thought in mind, I knew my next course of action, to run. To be live my life for just a little longer would be worth the risk of being caught again.

Besides, I now knew to be careful. Course of action set, I glanced around to try and read what was going on with Arion. The blond boy gazed stoically forward, and if there was a speck of emotion on his face I could not find it. It didn't appear that the journey was taxing on him at all; in fact, he was so relaxed one would think he had not just spoken of his throne being threatened by his brother.

Feeling somewhat irked, I glared down at my aching rump and then at the back of the prince. Didn't he at least have the courtesy to _ask_ me if I was still fine after all this riding? Clearly, he didn't particularly care about wooing me any longer. Gritting my teeth, I tried to think of a creative way to convince him to stop. For all I knew, though, it was his intention to ride on, regardless of how I felt.

Suddenly, I felt a deep yawn coming, and despite my best efforts to help it back, it still managed to make itself known to the world. Honestly, even if I _did_ want Arion to stop, I wasn't quite willing to let him know that he was exhausting me.

He was quick to notice the sound though, and he reined the horse to a stop, and glanced back at me. "A little tired out, my dear?" he queried, even if he knew the answer.

My eyes narrowed. "What's the 'my dear', snuggumwuggums?"

He sighed. "Ah, met with sarcasm. You really are the soul of polite conversation."

"Hello, pot," I replied. "I believe you're calling me black." He scowled at me, and I gave him a cartoonish, fake beam.

"So are you tired or not?" he asked harshly. The edge to his voice told me that he was done joking around. I've never been one not too harass someone I don't like just a _little_ bit more.

I smiled sweetly at him. "Oh, my. Aren't you gallant. Or are you asking that just because you're tired and you don't want to admit it." He went into all-out glare mode and I sighed, but smirked at him. "Yes, I'm tired." I admitted, spitting out each word.

"Then I shall find suitable place to us camp!" Arion said it so gallantly, I wondered if he had been watching too many early Disney princess cartoons. All the princes sounded like that. Next he would be shouting at me, 'Fear not, fair maiden!' each time I ran into a bush that looked overly threatening. I took a peak at the glowering face her wore, and suppressed a giggle at the thought.

That was, perhaps, too much of a reach for Arion.

Once we found a "suitable" clearing, the prince parked the horse – or whatever you do when you stop and leap off the back of an equine to tie it to a tree – he turned to assist me. "No need, I can handle myself." He sighed in frustration and crossed his arms, watching me closely. As I slid my leg over the top of the horse I said, "You'd be sorely mistaken if you think standing there and looking pissed will change my mind."

Arion groaned in disgust. "Fine!" He said, tossing his hands up and turning away from me. "Fall off the horse and break a bone. See if I give a damn!"

I laughed harshly and loudly after him as he walked away. "At least I'll be falling off on my own time!" He shot me a look and then snapped his fingers. A nice camp – complete with campfire, tent and blankets – appeared before our eyes in the clearing. One tent. Well, that wasn't going to fly.

"Hey. You can't seriously expect us to sleep in that one tent, do you?"

With eyebrow raised, he asked, "Why not? I don't see a better way to make sure you don't sneak off in the middle of the night. Besides, we'll be able to keep each other _warm._" He rolled the _r_ in warm, and a mischievous smirk appeared on his face as he savored the word.

"I'll sleep outside."

"I can always arrange it so I sleep outside with you."

"Go die in a fire." I said, crossing my arms. "I'd rather sleep with a wild bear than sleep in the same tent as you."

"That could also be arranged. I could probably convince a bear in this area to help out." I rolled my eyes.

"Please tell me you're not serious." He looked at me, and I knew he was more than serious. He was actually considering it. I tightened my jaw, and glared at him. "Alright. You win. But any part of you that touches me inappropriately will be removed." He laughed.

"Oh? And how will you manage that with no weapons or tools to speak of?"

I glared at him, and said, totally serious, "I'll get creative."

He chuckled. "Alright, m'lady." Mockingly, he bowed to me and as he straightened he said, "I'll go get us some food. Why don't you keep the fire burning?" I stepped closer to the fire, and watched him move away. Was he really just going to leave me? I couldn't believe my luck. Smirking, I grabbed a blanket, figuring that with that I could at least keep myself warm until I found the nearest road and then I could hitchhike to the nearest bus station.

I began to run the opposite direction that Arion had left in when, just as I hit the border of the forest, I literally hit something rock solid. I stood there, biting back the cry of pain. "Ow. Fuck. Ow." I whispered softly, feeling my face for damage. My nose felt a little sore, but I didn't think there was any blood.

"Hell, he planned," I said glumly, just as Arion's voice ran about the space.

"Oh, I see you found the wards. I wanted to make sure you'd be totally safe while I was gone. Wouldn't want you to disappear on me, you know." That. Bastard. He made it sound like this was all for my own good. I tried to dance myself free, but it didn't seem to work. Bugger it all.

I got to stew in my anger and humiliation for a good hour before Arion came back. By then it had gotten totally dark, and I had tried to use as many of the pine cones and stray sticks in the area. Moron hadn't thought that maybe I would need to get into _some_ of the forest in order to fetch more wood for the fire.

My eyes flickered towards him and then back at the flames. He had raised an eyebrow, probably at the picture of me staring dejectedly at my dwindling fire, which was comprised of a few flickering flames and quite a bit of coal. "Can't even keep a fire, can you?" My eyes moved so that I could fully look at him. Arion look resigned, and I decided that I didn't like his tone of voice.

"You're acting as if I can't do anything," I growled. "I'll have you know that I was once a girl scout, and I got my camping badge." The fact that I had quit when I was ten didn't matter, it was still true. "Perhaps if you had thought I'd need more than the sticks that happened to be lying around in the area, your precious fire would still be in good condition." We glared at each other for a few moments, before he sighed.

"It doesn't matter. What's important now is dinner. Can you do that, at the very least?" It was then that I saw he was holding a rabbit in his hands, and my stomach rolled.

"No." I replied. If I had a kitchen, I might have been prideful enough to say that I could handle it, but I had no clue where to start when skinning a hare, and I was _not_ in the mood to get food poisoning because I'd been stubborn. He grimaced, and I quickly said, "Hey, they don't exactly have Skin a Rabbit 101 in Girl Scouts. It's more about saving the environment than eating some of it."

"Brilliant," he muttered. "I'm so glad that you know the proper way to conserve a forest." Arion moved away, and called back, "I'll deal with the food. You just stay put. And make that fire bigger." I was about to snap something about how I couldn't without more wood, but as I turned to look at the campfire, I saw a neat little pile of chopped wood next to it. My mouth shut and I stood to toss some logs on and poked at it to get it started again.

As I worked, I vaguely remembered something my mother had taught me after I'd gotten lost – what berries and plants are acceptable to eat and which aren't. My mother was, if anything, thorough. 'And she's probably also a thorough-bred,' I thought darkly, not smiling at my horse humor.

Once the fire was blazing, I walked after Arion and stopped when my hand hit his shield. Blast that stupid thing. Where my hand touched, it felt warm and I could feel the magic humming under my fingers. I was momentarily fascinated by how I could have missed such a thing in the first place.

I reached out my other hand, and felt along the edges. It thrummed, like a guitar string that you plucked but did not hold still. There were very few words that could fully explain what this wall was, but I got a sense that, in a way, it was alive.

"What are you doing?" I heard Arion ask. I turned to stare at him and then immediately wished I hadn't. He had removed his jacket, and his white sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. He also had taken off the cravat and vest. His hands were bloody, and I didn't even want to see what the rodent looked like now. I closed my eyes and turned away.

Suddenly I was having flashbacks to biology class. The only reason I had been able to cut that frog apart at the end of the year was because I'd pretended that it was fake. Unfortunately, there was no reasonable way for me to do that and look at Arion. I took a few deep breaths, and then responded. "Your shield. I touched it and it felt… I dunno… all vibrate-ey."

I could hear the raised eye-brow in his next statement. "That was an utterly fantastic use of the English language, Grace. Care to try again?"

If I hadn't been so focused on not looking at him, I would have glared. Instead I frowned. "I'm not sure I can… It's like… the magic itself hums. It… tickles at the touch." He didn't say anything for a while.

"Grace, you can feel the magic?" He said at last.

I shrugged. "Yeah. I mean, can't you?" Then I sighed mentally. Oh boy. I knew what was coming next.

"I can feel _my_ magic, but I've never feel able to sense anyone else's magic." Clichéland, one ticket please. I grimaced.

"Oh goody! A _new_ and _exciting_ skill that everyone's going to want to teach me to use! Fan-fucking-tastic," I grumbled.

He was quick to respond, and I heard him walking across the grass. "You're telling me," he said darkly. "I'm the one who's going to teach you how to use it, and you haven't even gotten a handle on your own magic."

"Oh no." I simply could not keep my eyes closed anymore. I spun in the direction of his voice. "I will not be taught. By you. I've taught myself."

"You can't even break my shield," the blond man retorted, as he wiped his hands off on the grass.

I struggled to find a response, and then crossed my arms. "You cook that rabbit and we'll discuss it later." He beamed boyishly, and inwardly I groaned inwardly. He was actually really cute when he smiled. Too bad he was so bothersome the rest of the time.

"You'll lose," he called to me, as I tried to find something productive to do. I wasn't just going to sit around while he made dinner.

"I wouldn't put my money on that, your highness. I can be stubborn when I choose to be." With that, I turned back to the shield and began to play with sensing it again. Maybe I could find a weakness and then I could get out of here.


	22. Go Fish of Destiny

"So," Arion said, as he ate the last of his rabbit. Admittedly, the rodent hadn't been that bad, although I had been a little squeamish at the thought of eating it at first. I licked my lips and stared apprehensively at his from across the fire. What was it now?

"How shall we go about training you? I imagine we should also work in some hand-to-hand combat, since it's unlikely that you know that either," he continued, wiping his fingers on his pants in a motion that I found amusingly un-princelike. It was refreshing to know that the high and mighty Arion had bad mannerisms like the rest of us.

"How about… we don't go about it. At. All." I replied quickly, putting up my defenses. I was ready to duke this out with him, whether it came to words or blows. I wasn't eager to fight with him, but it might show him that I know more than he certainly thought.

The blond man grimaced, and looked at me, face serious. "You can't just ignore training. It doesn't work. The magic is too unruly for that."

I cocked an eyebrow, and crossed my arms. "Uhuh. So please explain how I've been fine for the past eighteen years of my life? I had no training, and nothing funny ever happened when I took ballet or some such."

I'd stumped him. I could tell by the way he frowned and swallowed before glaring at me. A smirk appeared on my face, as the most pleasurable sensation of victory took me. Even if he did come up with something clever to say in response, the moment was still mine.

"Perhaps it had something to do with the combined discovery of your past and your entry into Merriwind," he said, shrugging. Apparently he was going to try and play it down. He leaned back on the wood pile and tried to look relaxed. I could see that he was tense – he hadn't replaced his vest or anything since he had taken them off and his shoulders were taught with the annoyance he felt.

Now, I'd like to take a moment to say that he looked so sexy that it was a sin. And I was sitting here hating his guts and he had to be in a shirt which seemed to reveal all that was pretty about him. Fantastic arms, fantastic face, fantastic chest… I might be _angry_ but I'm not _dead_.

'Woah girl,' I thought, blinking mentally. 'Less ogling and more being angry. Pretty man baaaaad.' My expression became tight, and I glared at him. "Whatever. I don't care. I've taught myself enough, and I can teach myself more."

Arion's eyes narrowed, and then his face smoothed out. "How about we play a game of cards for it?" I looked at him quizzically. Well, that sure hadn't been what I'd been expecting. "I win, you train and you stay. You win, I let you go."

I thought about it. Well, honestly, it was extremely tempting. Even if I _did_ lose (a thought that didn't appeal to me at all) how would it be any worse than where I was right now? Naturally, my mind thought up a whole list of reasons, most of which involved having to sleep in the same tent as Arion.

I was about to say no, so I could go back to my original 'Oh, I have to pee' plan and then running off then, but he continued to say, "I promise you we won't pick a game that you don't know how to play."

That certainly would limit the game choices down to two or three games… all of which were childish and mostly based on luck. I snorted. "Are you really willing to do that?" I paused for a moment, laughing. "You do know that my knowledge of card games is limited to war, go fish and slap jack, right?"

I watched him as a smile seemed to tug at the corners of his mouth. "Really?"

"Really." I replied, feeling a little ashamed by the sad number of card games I knew. He sniggered, and I frowned. 'Laugh all you want, pretty boy. I don't remember the last time I lost an unskilled card game.'

"Sorry, but the idea of playing go fish to determine your fate amuses me to no end." I would have laughed at that, because when he put it that way, it was really funny.

But I growled at him instead. "Yeah, yeah. So are we going to start the go fish game of Grace's destiny? Because Grace really wants to get it over with so she can leave."

"Never count your chickens before they hatch," he said, still repressing a grin. He pulled a stack of cards out of midair, and handed them to me. "Why don't you deal?" Sullenly, I took the cards, and then paused.

"What version of go fish do you play?"

"The right version. Seven cards to start, the goal is to make sets of four. If you get what you ask for you go again. When someone runs out of cards, the game ends. The one with the most sets wins." I grimaced. I'd played that version once before and had _barely_ won. But, I had still won, so, whatever.

"Okay. We'll go with that." I pulled the cards out of the pack and shuffled them solemnly with a small prayer that I would win this game. I scooted around the fire so I could face Arion, and then dealt the cards. I put down the deck and picked up my hand.

Two sets of two and one set of three. Ah. Luck was on my side. But I put on my best poker face. I looked across the short distance to Arion, who stared levelly back at me. Okay. Now I had to admit that the only way this whole situation could seem dumber would be if we were playing 52 pickup for my freedom. But I wasn't about to laugh off this game.

"Do you have any… twos?" he asked. I glanced at my hand, and shook my head. Aww. That was too bad.

"Go fish," I said with a smirk. He reached into the pile and grimaced.

"Do _you_ have any…" I looked at my set of three fours. "Fours?" He shook his head, and I drew.

Unfortunately for me, it was a short game. It started with him asking for a four, and so I lost that whole set of three. I got a few sets, but the end result was my running out cards, and feeling triumphant until he won. By one set.

I grumbled as he counted the last set, tapping it down on his pile of cards with a wide grin on his face. "Lucky," I muttered darkly, childishly sore – not because I hadn't gotten free of Arion, but because I had lost.

"So back to my original question. How shall we go about your training?" I stared at him from where I sat, and sighed deeply.

"We should start with nap time. I always enjoyed nap time." I said it blandly. I really was tired. I had put a lot of energy into hoping that I would win, and the day had been long anyway. By now it was well into the night. He didn't seem to take the hint, and raised an eyebrow.

"Grace, smart ass comments will get you nowhere." His obtuseness to my statement made me furious. I stood and moved away from him, anger boiling. "You agreed to the game. Even half-Fae must be bound by their word."

"Oh yeah?" I said, spinning around to face him, tears of anger and fatigue pricking at my eyes. "Well if smart ass comments won't get me anywhere, how about an angry rant? Arion, I'm really freaking exhausted! Newsflash: I can't keep going like this! Not only have you forced me to ride all day, but I'm now once again trapped in you faeries' shit!"

He looked truly stymied for a moment. His face went blank as if he wasn't at all sure how to handle what was going on. The looks was not there for long, though, and his face slid into a stony mask that was totally unreadable.

"What, no smarmy comments? No comeback about my human frailty?" My face was getting hotter, and I could hear my voice rising in volume and pitch. "So, as a pathetic half-human, you expect me to also train with you? After the _hell_ that I have been through _today_?" I looked away from him, and just let the tears run down my face. I could feel the other problems with my life seeping in, even if they had little to do with why I was angry now. My dad's death, the loss of my mom… the memories stung and I was reduced to tears of sadness.

My shoulders shook with the force of them, and I tried to take deep breaths to calm myself. I could only imagine what Arion looked like right now. Bitterly I thought he must still look impassive and uncaring. Mentally, I lashed out in my ire, but I still could not bring myself to look at him. But this picture of him looking at me like I was pathetic gave me the anger to wipe the tears off my face and get some level of control over myself.

"Grace…" I heard Arion say gently as he touched my shoulder. I could guess that he was right behind me, and for a moment I was willing to just lean back on him, even if he was the cause of my issues. It would have been nice to be the weak little girl for a few seconds.

But I was still angry. "Don't touch me," I said fiercely, tugging my shoulder out of his reach and taking a few steps away while glaring at him. He actually looked as though he pitied me. It was like a final piece of conformation in my mind.

However, I was tired, and that last burst of emotion had drained any last bit of energy that I had been clinging to. My shoulders drooped, and my angry expression sagged. I looked away from Arion, not having the energy to expend on the emotions he made me feel. "I'm tired. We can train in the morning. I had better have pants to sleep in and train in."

With that, I dragged myself into the tent, pleased to see a sleeping bag and a pillow which seemed to call my name. If I had been paying much attention, I would have noticed that a perfect pair of black sweats had appeared on me, but I was too eager to sleep to notice.

I was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow, which was as fluffy as a dream.

* * *

**WAAAAAAH. Angry Grace is ANNNNNGRRRRRRY. **

**So I got more kkbook fanart. Just replace the (dot) with an actual . take away the surrounding spaces and go look!**

_**kkbook (dot) deviantart (dot) com/art/Go-Fish-Game-of-Graces-Destiny-253021254**_


	23. Acceptance

I awoke slowly the next morning. I didn't really want to leave my blissfully dreamless sleep to possibly see Arion lying next to me, which would shatter any semblance of a good mood that I had this morning.

However the combined bird song and light hitting my face through the opening of the tent made me roll over and make a move towards waking up. And perhaps I also intended to jostle and awake his royal annoyingness. But I managed to roll all the way over and onto my back. I frowned, and felt around next to me, my eyes still firmly shut.

Now I might have been tired last night, but the inside of that tent had _not_ been large enough for the two of us to sleep next to each other and still have room to roll over. Yet my hand met nothing solid except for the wall of the tent.

My head moved off the ground a few inches, and I cocked one eye open. No one else resided within my tent. Opening both eyes lazily, I sat up with a groan. I hurt all over. Clearly, my muscles had protested to yesterday's activities. Once seated I looked – really looked – at my surroundings. There was no sign that anyone other than I had slept here last night. There was no other pillow, no clothes, no sleeping bag.

Odd. He had seemed so determined to keep an eye on me. With a frown, I touched my head, and felt that my hair was a tangled mass of wild curls. Oh hell. I'd forgotten to do anything with my hair last night. Now it was time to pay the piper.

Thankfully I was not such an idiot that I had no hair tie. I pulled the thick black band off my wrist and piled my hair up on top of my head in a loose bun. With no concept as to how acceptable it was, I decided that I'd just have to give up on looking nice this morning.

Of course, it wasn't exactly like I was trying to impress anyone. Wherever that anyone-that-I-was-_not_-trying-to-impress was. Glaring at the flaps of my tent, I considered what I would say once I got outside. I had really exploded last night, with good cause. But even then I felt a little ashamed of my behavior.

I had really acted like a hot-headed bitch, even when he had… tried to pity me. Why did he have to go and make me feel sympathetic for him? I wasn't feeling charitable towards him or any of his family members, but I owed Arion an apology for growling at him for his gentle words.

A little petulantly, I stuck my head out of my tent. Arion sat against a tree, nearby to my tent but not within. I was also surprised to see that he had a blanket laid across his lap and he was asleep. I crawled out, and looked at him, whatever annoyance I had felt greatly eased. It appeared that he hadn't slept in my tent. How… honorable.

In sleep, Arion looked remarkably innocent. Like he could do no wrong and all was well with his world. His gold curls tumbled into his face and framed it nicely. It was hard to think that this sleeping man could be the same one who drove me to such acute anger. I was more than a little drawn aback by this, and deeply disturbed that I was capable of thinking this of my _kidnapper._

This thought, I realized that I had an opportunity before me, practically laid out on a silver freaking platter, and I'd be damned if I wasn't going to take it. I tried to make as little noise as I could as I moved. 'Think as light as a feather,' I thought, thinking extremely weightless thoughts at my feet. I crept around the fire, and reached the edge of the clearing, where I put my hands on Arion's shield.

Now if I could just get past this part. This time, I sunk all my effort into it, feeling the way the shield moved and was reminded again of the thrumming guitar strings… A Spanish tango sprung to mind, which was when I had the most bizarre idea of dancing _with_ the wall instead of at it.

If weeks of teaching myself hadn't taught me to listen to my instincts, I never would have done it. It was a really dumb sounding idea when you thought about it too much. So I didn't. My feet seemed to move into the spicy tango without my telling them to, and I soon found a saucy, sexy dance that reminded me very much of the 'Cell Block Tango' in Chicago.

The thrum seemed to change. It became _my_ thrum for a few moments, and I plucked at it and told it what I wanted to do. 'Let me out,' I danced it, if dancing could have words. The wall balked at that thought, and seemed to argue that it was its purpose to keep me in. But I soon bent it to my will and stepped easily though.

As soon as I was though, I curtsied and smiled at Arion's force field. If it had been a person, I bet it would have grumbled. But I only had time for that one little formality. Now I had to get away from this place…

I was only a few steps away from the campsite when an unbelievable pain wracked my body. Crying out, I collapsed to the ground as Arion's words echoed in my head. '_You train and you stay.' _The words were burned in my mind as I stood slowly, fighting pain as I stood and tried to keep going.

'_You agreed to the game. Even half-Fae must be bound by their word.' _My mental Arion continued, as I grit my teeth. Bound by my word. I remembered the rose incident and grimaced. The agony would only get worse the more I moved away from him. And I knew there would only be so long I could stand it.

I took a few deep breaths, collecting myself. It seemed to make the word ache less, but it remained in the core of my being, like something had bruised my soul. My jaw tightened, and tears threatened to come out. I bit my lip, forcing them back. I would not cry. I would escape.

Slowly, painfully, I pushed myself to my feet. I took there, sucking in great gasps of air. I could do this. I could get away. I just had to focus myself, and get myself out of this mess. But the more I told myself this, the straighter my form got, the more my oath seemed to strangle and wrench at my soul. Take the greatest pain you've ever experienced, multiply it by a huge number and imagine it attacking your very being. It's like nothing that words can clearly describe.

Once erect, I clung to the nearest tree. It was like a lifeline in my spinning world. I just wanted the pain to go away, to get this hell to end. And I knew what the answer to my problem was; it just wasn't the answer I wanted. I stood there for a bit, hoping in vain that the spinning would stop and I would somehow be released from my rash promise last night and be allowed to take another step and another until I was far away yet again and could disappear for good. I knew that if I could get away just one more time, none of these damn faeries would ever find me again.

But that wasn't option. The world did not stop spinning, and my instincts were now telling me that if I attempted to continue onward, I would unquestionably meet my end. I slowly moved my left foot forward, almost as if testing the water of a pool. The further forward it went, the dizzier I got. Yes, continuing would just make it worse. Even though the stubborn part of me wanted to vehemently deny it, there was no escape without more unendurable pain.

Cursing mentally, I considered my one option. Or, rather, the only sane option. I was not about to cast aside my life simply because I was stubborn and didn't like Arion. It was a fool's reason to keep this up, and even I could admit that, no matter how much it irked me to admit it.

My mouth thinned into a tight line, and I stepped backwards, the pain easing slightly. With a sigh of defeat, I managed to turn around and then slowly work my way back to camp. Even as the horrible sensation left, I felt extremely woozy all the way back. I think it was the slowest and most embarrassing walk I've ever had to make.

By the time I was back, I wished that I could just not exist for a while. I was so mortified that I had managed to get through the barrier and it had all been for naught. What if he had noticed? What if he was awake and smirking and laughing at me by the time I got back? A flash of anger tore through me. So help me god, if he did that, I would try as hard I could to dance a lightning bolt at that blond twat's head.

The force field opened up for me and let me through without complaint. In fact, it seemed to welcome me, hurrying me back inside its borders with the haste of a babysitter who lost their charge and managed to find and put them back into their crib shortly before the child's parents came home. I shot a surly glare at the world, expecting to see Arion there, giggling himself to bits at my failure, but instead he still sat against his tree, now awake, but looking solemn.

"I'm glad you made the right choice," he said evenly. I waited for the snarky comment, something about how despite even with my pigheadedness I could still see he was the right way to go.

"I didn't want to come back," I snarled back, lashing out preemptively.

His expression didn't change and his cool eyes remained locked with mine. "I know that." He looked so hurt for a few seconds, but that cool exterior was back quickly.

That he didn't argue back, and it left me feeling like the jerk in the situation, which wasn't okay. I was the kidnapper here. Nor was I the person who ruined another person's entire future as she thought it would be. _He_ should be the jerk, and for once he wasn't playing that part for me. It threw me off, and my emotions became really messy really quickly.

On one hand, I was glad that he wasn't being the Arion I'd come to know and hate. But I desperately wanted someone to hate, and he wasn't giving me that person right now. My anger needed a focus. However, I knew that attacking him while he was acting like this would just make me feel like shit.

So I turned away from him, growling to myself and trying to get rid of as much as my fury as possible in the sound. It didn't work, but it was an effective enough tactic that I wasn't tempted to kick Arion for something he wasn't do anymore. Well, he was still the reason I was trapped here, but he wasn't being a bitch.

Finally, I turned back to him. He'd stood and was poking the fire, his face still doing that carefully reserved thing. "So when did you notice I was gone?" I asked tightly, back still turned. I didn't want to face him yet. This new civility of his wasn't going to be enough to erase what he'd done, but I wouldn't be the rude one in the situation.

"I knew the moment you were awake," Arion replied calmly. I stiffened at that. So he'd been faking being asleep.

"What, were you watching me?" I demanded, spinning around. I realized my voice was sharp, and took a deep breath. "I mean, that's really creepy," I tagged on, forcing myself to not let the remnant anger out at him.

"No, I'd merely cast a spell to alert me when you were up." He said it so nonchalantly.

"Oh," I said, feeling a bit unsettled. "That's better than you watching me sleep." It wasn't _much_ better, but hey. I wouldn't complain, considering he had originally been planning to sleep with me, and hadn't. Then it occurred to me – if the spell had gone off when he'd woken up, why hadn't he been up when I had? "So, why weren't you awake?" I asked, turning to face him.

"I was wondering what you'd do." He was poking the fire, but stopped thoughtfully. "I rather expected you'd try to escape again, and I wanted to see if you'd manage it this time."

I frowned at him. "Weren't you worried I'd escape?"

Arion shrugged. "Not at all. Either you'd achieve at escaping or you wouldn't. If you hadn't, breaking my shield would have been the first thing I taught you. I knew you were still bound by your word, and that you couldn't leave without killing yourself."

"So you just sat back and watched," I said blandly. After a pause, I asked, "What if I had killed myself?"

"It wouldn't have gotten that far," he replied finally, his mouth thinning into a grimace. The expression was quickly gone, as he met my eyes. "I wanted you to come back yourself. But, if you had stayed determined, I would have taken you back into camp before you died."

I kept my eyes locked on his briefly, trying to figure out why that sounded so sweet to me. I told myself that it was really because he needed me, and that it was because of him that I'd been bound here. I decided not to dwell on this conflicting emotion I felt and was gratified when my belly growled.

Arion smirked at me, and I crossed my arms. Before he could comment on the unladylike sound my stomach made, I tartly said, "Sue me for being a real girl and needing to eat. Do you have any food?" I asked.

"I'll go look for something. Meanwhile, I want you to think of a way to describe how you got out of this shield. Perhaps with more eloquence than you described my shield with, so that English-speaking beings can understand it." He had a dry humor, this bastard did.

I stuck my tongue out at him as he stood and began to move towards the woods. "You're just jealous because you wish you could speak creatively like I do." Maybe I was being delusional, but I thought I heard him chuckle as he left.

Meanwhile, I got close to the tiny fire and sat crisscross applesauce in front of it. As I warmed myself, I thought about this new… lack of animosity maybe, between me and Arion. The way we'd just exchanged words was teasing. My friends and I spoke that way to each other. I glared at the fire, then reached over and grabbed the stick Arion had been prodding it with earlier. Poking the fire, I sorted out my feelings about this. I wasn't sure I liked it. But I wasn't going to complain that he wasn't the Arion I was accustomed to.

I puzzled over my emotions until I heard him stalk back into the clearing. I turned my head and stared at him. He held two rabbits in his hands. "Oh goody, rabbit again!" I exclaimed sarcastically.

"Oh hush, you liked it last night," he chided. He quickly set to work preparing them, and I set to work looking anywhere but at the rabbits.


	24. Learning

"So did you think of a way to describe how you escaped?" Arion asked, after taking a bite of the rabbit leg and swallowing. It amused me that he still seemed to have those impeccable manners even though he was out in the woods.

As if this was really company to use it in. The moment he'd started cooking the animals, I'd found I was famished. When they'd cooled enough (and I was the person who discovered they weren't cool enough, much to the annoyance of my fingers and, later, tongue) I basically attacked the food. My mother would have smacked me for how I'd ripped off a leg and started gnawing at it.

I had the decency to swallow before answering. I drew the line there. I could eat like a pig, but I wouldn't speak with my mouth full. A weird place to start caring, but Mom had scolded me most for that particular fault as a kid. That had stuck with me.

"Well," I started, licking my lips. I really hadn't been formulating those words. I'd been too busy dealing with the emotional angst of this weird new style of communication with Arion. "Well, you know how I said your shield vibrated? It kind of reminded me of when someone plucks a guitar string."

He nodded. "See, that's the way to describe things so people can understand," Arion interjected. A smile curled his lips upward.

I made a face at him. "Don't interrupt, it's rude," I shot back.

The tiny smile turned into a grin that just wasn't fair to exist on the face of someone I couldn't tolerate. "So you heard guitar. What next?"

"You sound like a therapist. And so this happened… how did that make you feel?" I replied snarkily, mocking the bland therapist voice perfectly.

He arched an eyebrow. "Are you going to continue or make snide comments?"

I grimaced, and tried to think of a way to make what I did not sound bonkers. There was no good way to avoid that. "Okay, honestly, this seems crazy, but the guitar almost began to sound like a tango. So I thought maybe I should dance to the music with the shield and it worked which was bizarre but there it is." It came out in a rush, but at least I'd got it out there.

"Sounds typical of your magic," he said. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but you can't really control it – it just happens when you're inspired."

I shrugged. "I never really thought about it. I learned how to make it so that every dance it doesn't automatically become a spell. You're right though – most of the time my dances aren't intentionally magical."

He frowned. "We'll have to work on that." I responded with my own displeased expression. I'd forgotten that "training", whatever that entailed, was coming. My stomach churned, twisting up with nerves. I didn't want to do this. Of all the people I wanted teaching me; Arion was easily at the bottom of the list. I'd even take Thistle back over him. The prince caught my expression. "Don't make that face, we need to teach you."

"Why?" I asked, perhaps a little desperately. "Listen, I know how to make my magic not work. I'm not a danger to others."

"That's the problem," Arion responded. "Do you think what happened at the beach was bad? The moment my brother's agents find us, worse than that will be after you. I can't defend us against them by myself for long. You need to be able to protect yourself. And you need to be able to do it without dancing." I was about to protest again, but he held up a hand. "Let's use the beach as an example again, shall we? You couldn't dance then. What if you simply aren't able to dance the next time? You're powerful enough you can learn to control it without the dance, we just have to teach you how."

I crossed my arms, and I glared at him. "Don't pout, Grace. It's not becoming." He stared back at me levelly, clearly not succumbing to my look.

"I was glaring, not pouting," I replied coolly, my eyes narrowing marginally.

He smirked. "Then how do explain that excessive amount of lower lip you're displaying?" Arion reached across and tugged at my lower lip with his thumb. His other fingers very gently grazed my cheek and jaw line as he did so. I was thrown off, and jerked away, surprised by how his hands were just a little rough, enough to add the slightest bit of delightful friction to the soft touch. My face felt a little tingly where he'd made contact. I tried to ignore the feeling, numbing myself to the sensations.

I distracted myself by pointedly tossing the bone from my piece of rabbit into the woods and then turning back to him to ask if he had a napkin in his possession. I didn't know if I was imagining things, but he seemed to be staring at me. I shook it off as that look was gone almost as soon as my eyes caught his.

"Use the grass," he said, not unkindly, simply matter-of-factly. "I left my travel napkins at home."

"Well excuse me. I thought maybe, since you can make a tent and a pair of pants to appear out of nowhere, that maybe you'd have a napkin." I did as he'd suggested though, wiping my hands off on the grass.

"I only made those appear because they were more important. I'm sorry, but I won't use my magic to get you a napkin because your hands are a little messy." The response was full of sass.

I chuckled, despite myself. When Arion decided to have a personality, he could actually be a humorous companion. I caught him grinning at me, and I quickly looked away. This camaraderie… what the hell, it was weird.

I rubbed my hands together and moved to stand. He was soon standing too, and held out a hand to help me up. I ignored it, and easily stood up. "I'm a big strong girl, I can stand up on my own," I stated aloofly. I wasn't quite ready for this at all.

"And I was being gentlemanly," Arion said defensively. "There's nothing wrong with that."

I shrugged, trying to pretend that I wasn't thrown by the new way to interact. "Still don't need help." I walked into the center of the clearing and then turned back to him, sighing. "So. Training. What are we going to do?"

Arion gave me a solemn look. "Are you not going to complain about my methods and are you willing to do this without being too much of a pain?"

"I can't promise either of those things, but is that really going to be a new element in our relationship?" I asked, arching an eyebrow and crossing my arms. I gave him my best smirk.

The prince shook his head and chuckled, which was a really nice sound coming from him. "No, I suppose not." His eyes connected with mine. "Just promise that you won't resist too much. I really am trying to help. I don't mean to be the villain."

A bitter response was on the tip of my tongue, something along the lines of how bad a job he'd done with that. I swallowed it. He was trying. It was weird, but he _was_ being friendly. "I won't resist too much. Just be aware that I don't put up with abuse."

"Believe me, I know." Arion went back to his horse, pulled something out of a saddle bag, and then stepped towards the clearing. His expression had become serious. With that conversation, he'd stopped being the friendly Arion and was now more the stony Arion I'd spent more time than I liked with.

He held out his hand. In it was a tiny orb, which seemed to be made of glass. "This is something that Thistle taught me with, to show me how to counteract magic. I stole it from her before I left the palace, figuring I'd need to teach you once I found you in a mess of your own magic." He paused and then said, "You're actually much better off than I thought you would be."

"Why, your majesty, was that a complement?" I asked, before I could stop myself. I was going to relish the moment if it was.

"It's merely an assessment of your current skills," he replied levelly.

"So you don't want to admit that you were wrong or give me a foothold to stand on when I say that I don't want training." Yes, I was rubbing it in, but it made me feel good. I'd done well all on my own, he'd alluded to that.

"Grace," he replied warningly. I tried and failed to suppress the pleased smile playing at my lips, but I didn't say anything. While his tone wasn't as threatening as before, I'd satisfied my need to point out the vague praise he'd given. "Are you done?" he asked.

"Yes," I said, beaming. "Continue, this young grasshopper is eager to learn." The sarcasm was just natural. It was oddly natural. We'd fallen into our banter easily, like if we hadn't spent so much of our time hating each other, we might have gotten along in the beginning. I swept this thought under a mental carpet, along with other thoughts from this morning.

He blonde locks danced around his head as he shook it, but despite the action that hinted at annoyance, I noticed him trying to hide his own smile. Simply bizarre. It was another thing I was willing to chock up to my imagination. "Anyway," he said pointedly, like a teacher trying to get a distracted class back on topic. "What I do is I put a bit of magic in this orb. Every time you touch it, you will be shocked. At least, until you figure out how to counteract the magic."

"_Pfffft,_ that'll be a piece of cake," I said, grinning. If this was all that training was going to be, then whatever.

"Oh, yes, and you can't dance." My triumphant feeling deflated faster than a popped balloon.

"How am I supposed to do that?" I asked. "I'm going to get shocked every time, and I'm not a glutton for punishment."

"What happened to it being a piece of cake?" Arion replied calmly, but I heard the challenge in his voice. He was daring me. He was bating me with my ego. I knew that, and I responded anyway. Because a Donovan never gives up.

I tightened my jaw and leveled a glare at him. _Well, I might as well get it over with._ I reached for the damn orb, gripping it with my whole hand.

I cursed, pulling my arm away. As expected, I was shocked. But it wasn't just a startling shock like you get from static electricity. It was like that and all the blood draining out of your arm, but the feeling goes up your elbow and it hurts ten times more. The sensation lingered unpleasantly, and I shook my arm and rubbed at my wrist, where the feeling seemed worse.

"Fuck," I whispered, chanting it like a curse. I took a few deep breaths. I could feel the pricks of tears in my eyes from the shock of sudden pain, but I tried to swallow them. When the pain faded more, I finally made eye contact with Arion.

"What the _hell_?" I hissed, still coping. "Is there an easier mode?" I cussed a little more, because it seemed to make me feel better. "Does it need to be on death-shock mode?"

"Don't be overdramatic," Arion said pointedly, but I heard the suppressed laughter in his voice. "It's not that bad. But perhaps more caution when entering the situation would be wise?"

"Oh, shut up," I replied, turning away to take one last, deeper breath and then placed my hands on my hips and turned to face him. The hand still ached. _Motherfucker,_ I thought vehemently, wondering if I could summon my magic to make Arion disappear. No response. _Traitor,_ I told it.

I glared at the orb, and poked it, trying to focus something on it. The unpleasant tingle shot up my finger and into my hand. I tried not to cuss, failed, and shook my hand more. _Son of a bitch,_ I thought. At this rate, I knew I was going to lose all feeling in my hand. Or perhaps never be able to move it again.

This is when I resorted to simply crossing my arm and staring down at the orb, silently willing it to explode. Again, nothing happened. I grit my teeth. This was already old, and I hadn't really even gotten started.

The prince watched silently. His amusement was radiating off him. My eyes snapped up to his face, where I could fully appreciate his dancing gray eyes. He had beautiful eyes. My annoyance allowed me to ignore it. "Do you find my struggles funny, your prince-liness?" My voice was dangerous.

"Schadenfreude, Grace. You'd laugh if you were watching yourself."

I scowled, and then thought about it. He was right, of course. I was approaching this with no strategy and probably looked like an idiot, cussing and waving my arms around. This didn't help to improve my mood. "Well…" I couldn't think of a comeback. I was prepared to resort to 'you're just a stupid face' when Arion spoke again.

"Perhaps thinking back to your process this morning would be helpful." His voice drifted lightly into my angry thoughts, and I considered his words.

Think back to my process this morning. What had I done this morning? I'd felt the shield and broken free. How was that supposed to help? I'd been about to snipe about how that was a lame attempt at a hint when it hit me.

I'd felt the magic and figured out how it worked.

Biting my lip, I held out my hand and allowed it to hover over the orb like a fortune-teller would when reading a crystal ball. I tried to feel the magic like I had before. I allowed my attention to focus upon the ball, and took deep breaths to center my thoughts.

There it was. I felt the magic licking the surface on the orb. It was like when you know your hair is standing on end because of static. And it was reminding me of something. It felt like the itch to dance to your favorite song in a ridiculous way. I nearly started to dance, but I resisted the urge, knowing that I couldn't do that.

"Have you got the feel of the magic?" Arion asked softly, his voice gently encouraging.

"I do. But I need to dance. I-"

"Focus the feeling on the orb. Push the urge to dance into the other magic."

"That's stupid," I replied, still attentive to the ball and the magic in it.

"Try it." He insisted.

I sighed. "If I get shocked, you owe me."

"Grace, just shut up and do as I say for thirty seconds," he replied. I might have been offended, but he delivered the words in such a teasing manner that I knew it wasn't wholly serious.

I narrowed my eyes, and pushed idea of the dance I was thinking of towards the electric magic, and touched the orb. I expected to feel a shock, but instead felt a steady stream of the emotion from my mental-dance from the core of my being and into the glass in Arion's hand. I was so proud of myself, the emotion grew. That was when Arion yelped and pulled his hand away.

I couldn't help it, I laughed. Hearing the high-and-mighty prince _yelp_ was fantastic, especially since it was followed by the most delightfully disgruntled looking scowl at his hand I'd ever seen. I was almost expecting him to pout. The feeling of success made the moment even headier, and soon I was giggling uncontrollably.

"Oh my _god_ you _yelped_!" I wheezed between laughs. "You sounded like a girl."

He tried to look aloof, but I could tell his pride was lightly wounded. "I was startled. You weren't supposed to push the shock back." Arion paused. "And I did no such thing." He added. When I didn't stop, he grimaced. "Would you stop?" He demanded.

"Schadenfreude, Arion." I replied, calmed enough to use his words against him. I giggled a little more, and then beamed at him. He was giving me this look that I'd never seen anyone ever give me before. A little like they were awestruck. Like the other odd looks, it was gone in a flash. There was an awkward silence, though, as I tried to process what I _knew_ I had seen and he did… whatever. Very carefully, neither of us stared at each other.

He cleared his throat in the end. "So…" the prince said, his voice almost a little uncomfortable. First time I'd ever head that from him. "Since you've figured out how to counteract that magic, let's work on spur of the moment spells, shall we? If you end today with the ability to at least defend yourself, that would be excellent."

I nodded and then looked at him, giving a small smile. "Okay," I said. I decided that I'd focus my energies on training rather than the weird looks and emotions the looks gave me. They were no good. The hell-practice would give me something else to focus on, even if I didn't like it. It was easier to handle that than this other stuff.

I was fairly certain that I didn't want to deal with any "other stuff" involving Arion. Being friends was bad enough. I wasn't ready to cope with "other stuff" that had to do with a man I had hated for so long.

"So what's the next exercise?" I asked. "Oh, and take your electro-orb back." I tossed it back at him. He easily snatched it from the air and then rolled it towards the camp and away from where we stood. I wiped my not-sweaty palms off for no reason.

"Now I hurl spells at you, and you try to quickly figure them out and neutralize them." Arion seemed just as eager as I was to move on from the moment. I could feel him relaxing even as he settled into his teacher-voice.

"This is going to go badly." I muttered.

"Focus, so it doesn't." He replied, matter-of-factly. I was glad to be back to banter. Banter was safe ground, and it gave me a somewhat familiar emotion to deal with around Arion. "I'll cast them slowly, and then as you get better, will make the magic move to you faster and faster. And remember, no dancing."

I felt myself tensing and bracing myself for what was to come. _Well, here goes nothing,_ I thought, feeling the magic building up around him.


	25. Honesty

"Okay." I breathed heavily, feeling the grass pressing into my back and savoring that I was not on my feet any more. That this was because I had just been blown off my feet was a fact I tried to ignore. My sore body was glad for the brief respite. My head ached. I was so ready for a break from the physical and mental exercise. "I think –"

The air started to charge with the same heavy energy that had hit me earlier. It felt like a bass drum in a club, when the sound reverberated through your chest and very bones. Brought me back to the thudding music that had been played in the one hip hop class I had taken to get some variety into my style. I rolled, my body protesting but my sense telling me that I had to move or that would _hurt_. I did not need to be bashed into the ground until I was turned into a fine Grace-paste.

The blast of energy came and went, and I started to speak again, but the sensation returned, pressing against my skin. "Arion, knock it off!" I yelled, rolling again, sensing the spell blow by me again.

"Figure one more out!" he replied, breathing almost as heavily as I was. I had learned today that his royal highness did get tired after casting that many spells in a day.

"Dammit, Arion. I have no more in me!" I yelled from the ground.

"You have one more. Figure out one more. You've got to be pushed to your limits. Your enemies will not give you time to rest," the prince replied, circling around me.

"I've already worked my way through six of these damn things," I grumbled.

"Then go for the lucky number seven." He leaned over me now, grinning. "Come on." He backpedaled away, and I tilted my head back so I could follow him. He was almost playful. What the hell. Why should he look that playful and move that easily when I was aching like crazy.

"But…" I pouted, that being the only thing my tired brain could supply as an argument to the contrary of that idea.

"One and then lunch," Arion said. He crossed his arms and continued. "Now don't be a wuss, Ms. Donovan."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Fine, play both the lunch and pride card at the same time. You play dirty, your most annoying prince-li-ness." I grumbled, rolling over easily and pulling myself onto my feet. My muscles protested, and I wanted to complain and bitch and moan with them, but I knew that current-Arion would honor his promise. And if he didn't, I sure as hell had an idea how to do some simple steps to get back at him.

To be honest, I kept waiting for things to snap back to before. Yet the Arion here had stayed the whole day – through my sometimes-serious-sometimes-not snide and snarky remarks. He was being someone I might actual become friends with.

"You ready," he asked, pulling me from my thoughts, which tended to wander when I was tired.

"Hit me with your best shot," I shot back, grinning.

"Coming right up m'lady," he replied, bowing prettily. And then he disappeared. Like, invisibility. Like, one minute I was looking at a smirking, handsome Arion and then the asshole was gone.

I spun around, trying to sense his presence and feeling nothing. _Why can't I feel his invisibility magic?_ I thought. "Arion, you're not allowed to disappear. That's not fair." The words just hung in the air without the response. "You're such a jerk," I muttered to the empty clearing.

_Okay, how to find the invisible man? _I simply kept spinning around, until I realized that I really ought to pay attention to my other senses. It was fairly obvious that I wasn't going to catch him with my eyes, so the smart thing to do would be to search for the tiny bit of magic he was using to make himself invisible and wait for his attack to come. I knew the spell, and had an idea as how to turn it against him.

Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and tried to ignore the aching of my body and focus on the feel of the air around me and to listen for either a person or his magic. I heard nothing, and began to wonder if I was just being stupid. Maybe he was trying to show me how stupid I still was so that he could kick my ass more.

I shook away the thoughts. _Focus, Grace,_ I told myself. _You've got this. You can totally nail this. Blow his socks off. _

Having centered myself, I went back to my task. Which was when I heard a quiet waltz, almost as though someone were playing the music in a very distant room and it was echoing through a house. I grinned, and opened my eyes. _Got ya,_ I mentally crowed. Using the same technique as before and all the other times before, I pushed the idea of a waltz danced to a distant ball's music towards the magic. I then took control of it, and pulled the dance away from Arion's magic.

There stood the prince, looking shocked. "You weren't supposed to be able to sense that," he said, staring at me.

I stuck out my tongue. "You need to keep your magic subtler."

"Well, fine. If you're so good, then this will be a snap." The same bass-drum spell sailed towards me, and I threw the hip hop back at it, pushing the thought towards Arion to blow him over.

I threw my arms up in the air. "Hah! Seven for seven! Pluuuuuuuuus BONUS POINTS!" I did a goofy victory dance in his direction, savoring the success that pulsed through me headily. I caught his eyes, beaming. "Bayum," I continued, not tired of tooting my horn yet. My dance continued, and he leaned on his elbows, staring up at me, looking amused and… fondly exasperated, I'd say.

"I owned you, your majesty," I cried, boogying until I was close to his feet. This was when my foot found the one damn rock and I fell. Because of my jam's trajectory, I landed right on top of Arion.

For a few moments, there was a lot of confusion of limbs, as both of us were sort of shocked by this happening. His back collapsed against the ground, because I wasn't heavy but I have enough meat on me to knock a guy back when I crash on top of him. His arms were suddenly flailing around me while I tried to brace myself and pull myself off him all at once while figuring out where to put my legs so that I could stand. It was all rather a mess.

But I felt strong hands quickly wrap themselves around my waist, and pull me up so that I was resting on his belly properly, and not awkwardly stuck somewhere between Arion and the ground. My eyes caught his, and… Well that was sort of completely awkward.

He was looking at me so softly. It was no longer fond exasperation that I found there, but instead something much warmer. There was now warmth in my stomach, and I was way too aware of his hands and how nicely our bodies pressed against each other. And the feeling was far too familiar and obvious now. This was that fuzzy crush feeling. And maybe a little more - the edgy, intense thing that had been between us in my dreams colored the heat in my belly.

Arion beamed at me. "Grace…" he started to say, but I quickly pulled his hands away from my sides and stood up.

"I'm such a freaking klutz, I'm so sorry. The freaking irony that the dancer can't remember her feet, right? And what's up with my name?" I was throwing out words, trying to erase what I had felt and the squeaky – was my voice really that squeaky right now? God. – register that my voice had suddenly reached in the last few moments. I began to move away, as he started to stand up.

"Grace," he repeated my name again, almost as though he was pleading with me. I could guess what about, but I was so not ready to address the thing that had just happened. The thing that I feared we both knew had happened.

I turned away, face blazing red, I could feel the intense fire in my cheeks. "I should go… uh…" My eyes fell upon the forest before me. "Pee. Yeah, I have to pee. Be back soon." I strode towards the woods, walking to the edge of the field. For a few moments, I thought he wasn't going to let me out, but the shield gave way to me and I walked into the forest. "Walked" in this usage meaning I jogged until I could safely hide from his view behind a tree.

I pressed my back against the tree, and took three long, deep breaths. And then took ten more. "No," I told myself. "No. No. No. No." That was all I could manage right now. "How about some more no. With a extra healthy dollop no. With a topping of how about no."

I clutched the sides of the trunk, trying to find some stability. This was way too crazy. I seriously could not be falling for his princely-arsehole-above-all-other-royal-arseholes. I knew better than that. He was rude and cruel and horrible. He had taken me from my family and ruined my life.

I tried to reconcile that person with those feelings, and, honestly, they didn't match up with the person I had fallen on today. The Arion of today had been prickly to start, but had softened as time had passed. He was actually charming, and sweet and funny and understanding. _That sounds like such drivel,_ I argued with myself. _Grow up, you know that he'll just go back to being evil once he gets what he wants and you fall for him. You cannot trust him. You're out now. He's trained you, and you can now actually manage this running away thing. You don't need him. _

It almost seemed reasonable to run away… But I knew that I did need him, just a little. He was still way better at magic than I was which meant there was a definite chance that I could be recaptured and dragged into Tiernan's clutches. _That would be worse that Arion any day, honestly._

I rolled my eyes. "You better walk right on back to that camp," I muttered, frustrated that it was actually considered logical for me to go back to Arion. But I so didn't want to be romantically anything with him, even if I was definitely attracted to him. I decided that I would just accept it and move on. I didn't need to act on it simply because I had felt it so overwhelmingly in that moment.

Turning around and feeling satisfied with my plan, I strolled back to camp. "Business taken care of," I declared. He didn't respond, simply kept staring intently at the fire, which he was working on building yet again. After the lack of silence between the two of us, this was slightly uncomfortable. However, uncomfortable silence was better than an uncomfortable talk about mutual feelings. _Which there might not even be,_ I reminded myself.

It seemed a good idea to join him beside the campfire. I'd show him that I was totally cool about this too. So I did. And we sat in silence for what felt like forever. It was the most awkward thing I've ever done in my whole life, possibly besides that time I tried to ask a guy on a date by giving him a frog in 2nd grade.

I decided that it was a little too much quiet, which was when I threw out the first dumb question that came to mind. "So why are you so different now?"

His gray eyes slid over to me. "What do you mean?" He asked somewhat flatly, though I could tell he was trying to be polite.

I bit my lip. Maybe now was not a good time. "Um… You know what? Never mind, forget it" I stared at the fire, hoping he'd ignore my sloppy attempt at getting conversation started.

It seemed that this was something he was not about to let go, though. "Grace, I know you're still thinking something and I'm dreadfully curious. Do tell." I couldn't tell if his voice was sliding back into that predatory danger zone tone or if it was simply the way his voice sounded when he was trying to coax something out of someone.

"No, really. Nothing." I tried to wave him off again.

"Tell me," he restated. His voice still very calm. Deadly calm, I'd say. Dammit.

"Well. In faerieland… you were... well, I don't think there's a polite way to put this…" I searched for words. Words that would not lead this down the slippery slope that I feared we were heading down. I didn't need more of this. I would fight, but I was tired and I didn't need another visit from old Arion.

"An ass?" He named it bluntly. I gaped at him. "Don't pull punches for me. I'm a man, and I am man enough to recognize my faults. Is that what you thought of me?" He looked at me so hopelessly. Like what I had to answer mattered.

Without further hesitation I said, "Yes. I hated you. And I am afraid that the version of you that I hated can easily come back." The words were delivered with nothing but bland honesty, something new for us. He looked down and prodded the fire. Was that shame I saw on his face? "So why? Why were you like that with me, if you knew?" I tried not to be angry. It may have seeped into my tone more than a little bit. It was hard to hold back. How could he have acted that way to me when he _knew_ he was being cruel?

Arion stood up and turned away from the fire, as though thinking. I understood the need to find the words, but I needed him to speak. I needed him to explain now. He owed it to me, dammit. "You were so… different. Well, not different, really, but different to me." He growled. "I knew what I needed. I needed you to bend to my will and fall for me. I needed you to help me become king, so that my damned brother can't do what he wants with the courts."

"So you were a bastard so you could win me over?" I was furious. Arion was completely using me, which was expected. And I was glad I had not succumbed to him. That fucker.

The prince whirled, his stormy eyes falling on me, gaze intense. "Yes, I was. You were different, remember. Willful, unbridled. As a prince of faerie, others don't stare you down or fight like you did. You were like a stallion that had not yet been broken. And I thought that if I ground you down, you would break. My father and brother thought the same. We were waiting. We were planning to be cruel until you could take it no longer and would fall in line with the rest of the meek or at least publicly quiet women that reside in the courts." He smiled at me. "And after the volta, I knew. I knew you wouldn't break. We could abuse you until your body hurt, your soul ached for home, you needed respite from us, but you would never allow us the satisfaction. You would persevere, Grace. Singular Grace."

He grimaced. "I sound like an idiot. I apologize. But the point is, I… well, I was a complete ass because I had never dealt with a spirited woman quite like you. It sounds fair foolish, but there it is."

"So you were a complete heartless dick because you don't know how to talk to women?"

I couldn't believe that he laughed. "In a way. Honestly though, I'm sorry I put you through hell; I just knew what I needed. And I thought that was the way to reach my end goals. Now I see the better way is simply to appeal to you."

I frowned. "What, so have you only been better to me because you want me to fall head over heels so you can have the throne? This is just an act of another kind?" I felt as though my worries about his manipulating me were justified. And it hurt like hell because it had _worked_ to some extent. I was on to him now.

"No," he said too quickly for my liking. He reached out and touched my forearm, trying to look me in the eye. "That's not…"

I stood, pulling my arm out of his grip as I did so. "Who the hell are you, Arion?" I asked pointedly, almost accusingly. I glared at him, and he walked towards me. He didn't have any of the cat-like mannerisms, or even any fury.

The golden prince reached out to me, the midday sun hanging over his head and turning his wild golden curls into a halo around his face. He was achingly handsome, and the blazing gold crown on his head framed a face that held eyes that were full of his soul. In those gray orbs, there was something sad and lost. This truly ethereal, impossible man who had turned my world upside down was touching my cheek, caressing it gently with a thumb so soft.

"I don't know who I am," he stated, with such naked honesty it shook me to the core. I was blown away. There was the truth about Arion, and he was laying that at my feet. "I am a thing torn between my parents' needs, my peoples' needs and my own needs,. I have been what I need to be." Our eyes remained locked, and he just continued. "For my country and father, I was what I was to you. It was inexcusable." I could tell there was more that he wanted to say, but he seemed to hesitate. Though something in me said that I shouldn't be curious, I wanted to know what it was that he was holding in so badly.

So I asked the first thing that came to mind. "Then why don't you free yourself?" I queried softly. "Get what _you_ need. You can't help the other things without being happy too."

He bit his lip. (Dammit, that was charming and sweet too. Jerk didn't have a right to be that adorable.) "Would that I could, Grace," he replied in an equally gentle volume. That sentence contained such undertones, though. And I knew what the words implied, as he stared with _longing, real longing,_ at me.

_You have a choice,_ a mental voice whispered. _You can ignore this. He is offering this to you. You know it. He knows it. You have no obligations. _

_I'm definitely not ready! _I screamed mentally. _I'm not ready for feeling this way about him. There's simply too much attached to that._

So I moved away from his touch. Arion tugged his hand back to his side, and looked to the side, hurt, I thought, but understanding as well. I didn't want things to be that way though. I just didn't want to deal with this right now. I offered a smile and tried to open things up again. "So how about some lunch? Care to teach me how you make the rabbits so delicious?"

For a few moments, I thought that he was going to shrug me off. The way he turned for a few moments made it seem as though he thought about shutting me out. However, Arion smiled at me gently as he turned back and said, "Of course, as long as you promise not to burn yourself like a ravenous dolt again."

I knew things weren't back to before. There wasn't the easiness, and the unaddressed thing hung between us like an awkwardly dangling string tying us together. This was better than him brushing me off. And there was always time. Always. "Well, if you didn't keep me waiting for so long, I wouldn't be ravenous, now would I?" I replied snarkily, falling into the banter with ease.

I hoped that sooner or later the meaningless chatter would wash away all that had just happened.


	26. Relationship Status

The rest of the day was uneventful… if you discounted how uncomfortable everything was between me and Arion. No matter what I said or how I tried to ignore it, there was an elephant in the room that I was brushing aside. There were a few times when the conversation tipped in the direction of addressing it, but I sure as hell shot him down every time he tried. After a while, all talk basically died a slow, painful, agonizing death.

Frankly, the idea of it all was inconceivable. I could not, would not and never would love that man. And the moment I thought that I yelled at myself for even bringing up love. I shouldn't even have feelings of a soft and sweet nature for him. And those feelings could never stray towards the possibility of love.

We went through the motions as I sensed that very similar thoughts were plaguing us simultaneously. Arion suggested he'd go get some more firewood distantly. I nodded a vague affirmative and continued to churn the idea over in my head.

_Why are you even thinking about this?_ My mind demanded. _This man tortured you in every way. He took your life away with the contract. He watched you suffer. He never offered a word of help. How dare you even take the time with this non-issue. _

I reminded myself that he was indeed an arse. And he was probably just using me. And that lame excuses about his being unable to understand a woman with a brain were not an acceptable defense for what he'd done to me. I needed Arion for now – I could recognize that. I did not need to care for him. In fact, it was imperative that I crushed those feelings as soon as possible. This was a business relationship we had. That was all.

He walked back, dragging sticks behind him. He tossed them into the fire mutely. I poked at the flames with the stick. Once he was done, he leaned against his tree near the fire again. We both stared at the flames intently.

The silence got even more unsettling as time passed. My skin almost felt itchy with the tension in the air. After a while I stood, needing to move and escape the terrible feeling of something-denied-for-perfectly-logical-and-good-re asons-dammit. Because Arion was so far beyond forbidden fruit that he was more like forbidden Brussels sprouts. You were told not to eat them at all costs and you were just like "Okay, great, fantastic. That'll be so easy to do I won't even have to think about it."

I went to the field, pulling off my restricting shoes. I didn't want them anymore. I just knew that my feet needed to be unrestricted.

And then I felt it. My muscles wanted to move and so I let them. I let my arms swing and my legs move. It just felt right, imagining my body as fluid and relinquishing control to my instinctual dancer. She carried me across the clearing. The annoying thoughts began to dissipate at the edges of my trance. I felt my body begin to calm down as I centered myself in the dance. I began to wonder what I was doing, and then I realized that I didn't care.

The smile crept across my face. My gaze tilted towards the sky and I began to wonder what it would be like to touch it. So my body reached for it. I felt my arms lift upwards, and I my torso stretched up, pulling my legs straight next and my feet as high as possible without being on point. I twirled away, pirouetting and turning, caressing the heavens as I could. The sky was much lighter than I was. It was free from the cares of the earth.

And I felt the earth drag me down. I collapsed into it. I twisted onto the ground and gazed up at my goals from my trapped place on earth. I rolled onto my belly, and slowly got into a position on my hands and knees, and then pushed with my hands so that I was bending back on my knees. I fought the gravity. And I came back down. The earth was too much still. I could not reach freedom. I pushed again, reaching higher with my arms and bending back further. I fell again, landing on my hands with a thud into the grass and dirt. I moved one foot so that I was kneeling and then pushed again. This was the highest yet, and I stood and my arms reached and my back arched.

But I was not stable enough. I bent too far, and began to tumble back to the ground. This time my hands searching not for the air but for support. A strong hand took mine, and it pulled me back before I lost myself to the ground. I didn't think about it, I simply twirled under the arm offered to me. It allowed me to go, and my body leaned back again, as though to fall. I trusted my partner to catch me, and he did. I would do this a few more times, never quite looking at my friend.

The fourth time, I spun and then pressed into his body, clutching his shoulder now but the other arm plead for the clouds above still. He took my waist and lifted me upwards with sturdy arms. I leaned back, knowing this man would have me the whole time. Knowing that I was safe. He slowly turned, and I felt that I'd reached the sky. My grin burned on my face. I'd found freedom.

Satisfied and feeling better, I curled back towards him and put my hands on his shoulders to signal that I was ready to come down. He lowered me gently and I was not bothered when my feet touched the ground. And then my eyes settled upon my dance partner.

Arion just looked at me as though he were transfixed. I just stared back, hoping I wasn't staring at him the same way he was staring at me, though I could feel my face settling into something akin to being a little struck. We two just looked. And I was lost in his eyes and I was pretty sure he was lost in mine.

I barely registered that he was leaning towards me until his lips were mere inches from mine. That was when reality came back and I, thankfully, moved my hand to stop his incoming mouth. We were not romantic, he was Brussels sprouts and I could never care for him. So there.

I got out of Arion airspace quickly so that I could get sense and rationality back. But that boy was good at making me lose my will, but I would not succumb to that using bastard. No I would not. I rubbed my temples. I was beginning to wonder if it was already too late for me. If I was already slipping.

_No. No. You must beat him. He cannot win. _I told myself. _You've got to leave tonight. Now. A.S.A.P. _

"Grace," Arion whispered.

"No, Arion," I said.

"If you're not going to say it I will." He said.

I turned to him quickly. Then realized that there should be nothing and I shouldn't look so concerned and I should play the damn situation calmly. I tried to look nonchalant and sort of completely clueless. It had mixed results. "What? There's nothing to say." I wondered if my voice sounded too tense and a little pitchy. So much for calm.

"Don't you feel it?" The prince demanded, moving slowly towards me.

I backed away. "Feel what? Why would I feel anything? That's so silly to think that-"

Arion cut me off. "You are not this dumb. Stop it. And stop tiptoeing around this. You know it's there. I know it's there."

"What?" I asked. I was still fighting for this innocent and clueless thing.

"Attraction." The man fired the word off and stared at me. It sat in my brain. "Feelings. Caring." They landed there too, stirring up my other thoughts. Meshing with my fears and stubbornness. They also shot down my balloon of hope that I could just ignore the emotion I hated myself to have for Arion.

He was right. I was attracted. And maybe I felt and cared for him.

I just wanted to cry.

I bit my lip, fighting the urge. _Fuck you,_ I thought at him. "You know I'm right." He stated it point blank, but I sensed relief in his tone. It had been a gamble he'd just made and he'd hit home. I turned away from him. I couldn't fucking deal with this right now. This was just Stockholm syndrome icing on a sick, sick cake. "Grace, please. Just admit it. I just want to know. I need to know." He was now at my back, and was stroking my arms up and down. I felt my stomach turn. How could I have been so stupid? "Just tell me how you feel. Tell me that you could love me and we can end this."

That was the thing that set me off. I felt the ill feeling in my stomach tip towards anger. "End what?" I ground out huskily. The tears were coming.

"This ridiculousness," he said softly. "I can become king and-" I didn't even let him finish.

"You…" The word shook with ire I couldn't summon a word foul enough for what I wanted to call him. The fury broke over me, pulsing through me. I tore away from him. "Ridiculousness?" The word rolled over my tongue and tasted vile. I turned on him. "For your information, your fucking royal majesty, "this ridiculousness" is what you get when you take everything from a girl, torture her, ruin any chance at normality, drag her forcefully back into a problem that she escaped from, and manipulate her into liking you maybe more than a little because you're actually a decent asshole when you try. "This ridiculousness" is the result of a girl knowing that the feelings brewing inside her are just plain _wrong_ because of how you treated her and her family before now. And then, "this ridiculousness" as you so aptly called it is not worth your while because you need to get your crown before your big bad older brother takes it from you. And I, the girl, should feel _so very_ _sorry_ for you because you're some tortured little prince who doesn't know about women who, God forbid, should resist you or what his identity is. So, you know what, actually I'm really fucking sorry for all "this ridiculousness". I hate to trouble you, since clearly your problems are the worst fucking ones here." By the time I was done, tears poured down my face. I was practically shouting the words.

"Is that really what you think?" Arion asked.

"What else should I think?" I demanded. "It's pretty obvious you were just using me. You've used me from start to finish." I had nothing left. My power and strength left me, and I continued on quietly after a few deep breaths. "You manipulated me by making a clueless child sign a contract and you've now successfully stolen the last shred of dignity I had by making me care about you." The tears just trickled now and I wiped them away forcefully with the heel of my hand. "What the fuck. I should have been more careful. You're an asshole. I don't want to care about you."

"I just meant…" Arion frowned. "How can I explain to you?"

"What do I fucking care?" I spat. "You're just going to speak more lies. If I had the option to leave I would. You disgust me."

"I cannot lie." Arion said blankly. "Check any faerie tale, a faerie cannot lie."

"I can." I said spitefully, though now that I reflected upon it I couldn't remember the last time I had. I was sure there was an example of it somewhere.

"Maybe, but you're half-fae. I am all faerie, and therefore cannot lie to you. So know that I admire your fire and passion. I love your fight. I hate to see you hate me. I hate to see you cry." Arion moved towards me and took my hands in him. "Look me in the eye." It was not a command, but I looked anyway. In his gray orbs was some of the most intense sincerity I've ever seen. "Don't forgive me for what I did. It was wrong. You have no need to be beholden to me for anything. I have to earn you, and you have the right to ignore my efforts or attend them if you will. Just know that I am trying to win you. And not just for a crown. Not any longer. That was the goal originally." He grimaced and swallowed. "I… I want you to be my queen. Because you will do well to balance me and tell me when I am an idiot. You will clobber me when I am unjust and make me see the right. You inspire me more to my cause of freeing human slaves. I believed because of my mother but had lost my way under my father." I opened my mouth to remind him that it didn't make anything better. He silenced me with a finger. "Just as inexcusable," He continued. "Again, I don't ask for forgiveness. I just want you to know. But most of all, Grace Donovan," he got on his knees and looked up at me, "Know that I am the sorriest man alive. This is not enough to repair the damage. It may never be enough. Just remember and know. You are free of my pestering you about this. I will respect you in all things. And I will be a better person." Arion was pleading with me now. "I cannot be more honest than this."

I tugged my hands away. "So I call the shots about this." I was suspicious, but I would check.

"Tell me what you want us to be or not to be and we will be that."

"And you won't push me?"

"Not at all."

I paused. "Then swear to me that you will abide by that. Make me an oath."

"Grace…"

"Do it." I wanted this cast in iron. It wouldn't banish the issue, but it might give me time to process and test him. I couldn't forgive him for what he'd done, but this could be the start of his path to redemption in my mind.

He sighed. "I, Prince Arion of the Fae, swear to not force myself onto Grace Donovan. I will not push her into anything involving feelings for me that she doesn't want to be pushed into. I will let her decide where our relationship is or isn't. I will abide by her in this matter at all times."

I stared at him. I was completely stunned that he'd done it. "Thank you," I told him after a while. We just stared at each other. I could feel the question about where we were burning in his mind. He did not ask, though I gave him time to turn back on his promise and do so. "So, _purely-business friend_." I emphasized our status pointedly. I threw him that bone for good behavior. "Where can I get a drink of water? I have a horrible head ache."

He stood, smiling weakly. I wondered what was going on underneath those blonde curls. What he thought of the new arrangement and if he wanted to fight it. But he just said, "Here. Let me fix that. I gave a gift for healing."

"I noticed when I broke your nose." I replied. Maybe that hadn't been the most tactful thing to say. Whoops. I gazed at him, wondering how he'd react.

"Indeed." Arion said, lifting my hair around my temples up gently. He was very careful "One thing we don't need to worry about teaching you: how to punch properly. You've got quite a swing."

"Hey, when you're teased for being soulless in pre-k, you learn how to make the boys who torment you suffer." I replied jovially.

"You're going to fall asleep when I do this. I'll return you to the tent, just so you're aware." Warmth began to spread at my temples before I could protest. Sure enough, I fell asleep.


End file.
